Edge
by Xeroedge
Summary: First three chapters, wrote them a while ago, may write more. let me know if you like them and it might get me up off my butt long enough to get another chapter out.
1. Chapter 1

Xero Edge

Chapter 1 -

Tyorin banked left and watched his under-camera as the high energy projectiles zipped past with all the effortless energy of zero-g combined with high powered magnets.

"Your gonna have to do a lot better than that!" Tyorin yelled into the comm. Turning his fighter over onto its back mid-bank, slamming the throttle forward and pulling back on the control stick as hard as he could. As soon as his fighter started reacting to his overbearing requests he pulled the throttle back almost to the point of stalling out his own plasma engine.

The reaction was brilliant; his Blade swung upwards and upside down, bringing him around, facing down his old course. Ending right-side up with both of his quad-barreled mass drivers facing directly at the stunned fighter pursuing him.

Tyorin pulled the trigger and let loose all the fury that his dormant rail drivers held within. Watching with grim satisfaction and a twisted smile as the red-hot heavy slug rounds ripped off the starboard stabilizers of the opposing fighter and dug deep into the plasma storage unit it used to restrain its potent fuel.

Tyorin released the trigger and slammed his throttle forward again, snapping past the enemy fighter as it tumbled helplessly. Ending its own life as the plasma engine ignited and consumed the poor ship in a white-hot ball of fire.

"Three more…" Tyorin panted, looking for the next fighter…

"Tyorin!" A piercing scream invaded his senses. "Turn off that damned video game and get the hell out here to eat diner!" His mother's scratchy voice toned down as she inhaled again and turned on her heal to leave the room.

Sighing, Tyorin reaching behind his seat in the cockpit of the aging, yet complex fighter, and flipped an invisible switch. The deadly fighter flickered and faded from around him, leaving only his own poor taste in decorating to show the world to him.

Numerous posters of the famous Blade fighters blazed across his walls. The Beastslayer logo of the renowned Kiith Somtaaw shown proudly over the backside of his door. However, the door lay open right now from his mother's intrusion and the logo presented itself proudly to none other than the dark wall it faced.

He stood from his seat, pulling his earpiece out with his left hand and brushing his hair with the right. Stretching, he sighed again as he looked down at his one form of stress relief and freedom. "Pointless…" He pointed out to no one in particular and stepped from his place, clipping his headset back to the seat's headrest.

He stepped out into the hallway and turned left, looking down the hall at the light coming from the kitchen. To his right now was the door to Elliay's room, his younger sister.

Elliay was the only one, in Tyorin's opinion, out of the entire Kiith that didn't absolutely despise Tyorin's simulator practice. Much to the contrary of his parents, whose room lay at the end of the hall now behind him.

He started walking, rolling his eyes as he stepped out into the kitchen. He prepared himself for the bombardment he was about to receive and stepped past the kitchen out into the dining room.

His father was the first tonight. "You were playing that game again?" his words more of a pointed statement than a question. He aimed his fork at his son and tried to speak clearly through his food. Following up quickly he tried not to give Tyorin a chance to reply, "What did I tell you about wasting your life in those games?" His father spoke calmly and slowly, as if dully stating fact.

Tyorin rolled his eyes, "I'm not wasting my life, dad." He pulled his chair out from the opposing end of the polished wood table.

Truth-be-told, Tyorin was actually rather proud of his achievements tonight. The simulator he was using had the latest software installed to mimic the performance of the inner-rim renowned Hiigaran Blade fighter and its much-feared match, the Taiidani Triikor fighter.

He had been training himself with that simulator for the better part of two years now and, unfortunately, his Kiith's great lack of love for all things that concern war had labeled him as an outcast the moment he stepped through his home door; beaming from ear-to-ear with his new simulation software in hand. His own family was no exception to this, and his mother and father had grown increasingly hostile towards their own son and his 'game' over the last two years. Tyorin's look turned sour as he ran over these thoughts in his mind.

_There was no real reason for them so resent it so much, right?_ He'd been training to try and secure his own career as a matter of fact, and his father was the very one who told him long ago to shoot for his dreams.

Of course back then Tyorin's 'dream' still resided out in the fields, working with his father.

Tyorin tried to think of other things and lightened his mood a little when he remembered that the last fighter he shot down was his eighth in a single simulation. He had read sometime before that the best record from the Sobanii pilot school was six on one, so he was two ahead of his studies right now. Plus he still had three other fighters on his tail; so in a way, he mused, he was five ahead of schedule.

He smiled inwardly, though careful not to let it show through. Tyorin settled down into his chair and looked at his plate of luke-warm food. His stomach lurched as he picked up his fork and buried it in the pile of potatoes on his plate.

His mother looked up from her plate to see Tyorin merely stirring his potatoes around, "Don't look at it like that! If you had been out here on time it would have been nice and hot. But as usual you decided to stay in your room and play your games."

Tyorin steadied his breathing, not wanting to let his lungs get too greedy. Getting on that he was getting angry would only start another confrontation with his parents. He was lucky to be on speaking terms with them again. Which, by the way, had only just been re-assumed three nights prior, when Tyorin promised not to practice for a full twenty-four hour day. "It's not just a game mother; it's a very sophis-"

"Oh just shut up with your 'sophisticated' garbage about that game! That's all it is…" she looked back to her food, "…a game…" she stated quietly, wondering where her son was headed with the path he had evidently chosen for his life.

Her anger rose again when she couldn't figure out where she had gone wrong in his upbringing. "Stop trying to turn it into something that it isn't!" she added a moment later, trying to vent some of her anger.

Tyorin's own anger quirked a bit; all that happened now, however, was that his face reddened a little. "I apologize, mother. I'll just eat then go back to my room so you don't have to deal with my games…" he ran over his mother's statement, "and all that garbage." He stopped curtly, showing a bit of his terse tongue to his mother, which his father was quick to act on.

"Don't speak to your mother that way young man! You're lucky to still have a roof over your head the way you treat her and I!" his fathers own face reddened a little.

Tyorin took the blow from his father in passing and finally picked up a fork-full and raised it to his mouth. No sooner had he placed the steel between his teeth did his father speak up once again.

"And no you won't be going back to your room after diner, all you would do is go straight back to that game." He said in a rather matter-of-factly tone as he lowered his eyes from Tyorin back to the plate and loaded his fork again before continuing.

Elliay cringed a little in her seat, knowing what was coming.

"Instead, you're going to help your mother with the dishes then you'll come outside to help me with the rest of the work on the fields for tonight. Then you'll go to bed." He paused momentarily. "There'll be no more playing that game until I say so, is that understood?" It was painfully clear to Tyorin that his father's last sentence was not a question.

His reaction, as only could be expected, could be considered less than pleased. _Until he says so?_ Tyorin stood rather abruptly from his place, his fork rattling away on the hard wooden floor below the table and his chair nearly tipping over behind him. His head was dropped below his shoulders, looking down at his quickly forming fists. "What makes you think that I was going to go back to my room and _play my game_?" his voice shaking from the anger he was trying desperately, and failing, to repress.

"Why wouldn't I go to sleep? Huh?" Tyorin raised his eyes to his father's face and shot plasma at him, his father's returning look was stunned. Of all the times they had gotten into arguments with their son, Tyorin had never looked quite like this before.

His father pushed himself up from the table to meet the incensed Tyorin, though he couldn't hope to reach his son's point of influenced rage, "You sit back down right now young man! I will not toler-"

But Tyorin cut him off, having had to deal with his parent's constant hate of his love for flying since he first discovered what a plasma drive could do. "Is it an eternal sin to want to make a life for myself?" Tyorin's rage finally getting the better of him, "Sajuuk knows I will never be able to eke out a living for myself as long as I stay in this dump!" his fist punched the table to emphasize his last word. "I play that Qwaar-damned _game_ so I can get into the flight academy! I know you don't have the money to pay for tuition and even if you did, I know you still wouldn't pay for me to go! I have to impress the Sobanii instructors if I ever want even a chance to get in!"

Tyorin had gone over his breaking point, "Don't you understand that I have _absolutely_ no interest in the agricultural life!" he heaved, "I don't wanna be a Qwaar-Damned _Farmer_!" he quite literally screamed his last three words at his father and his fists pounded the table on his last word.

His mother literally retracted from his use of the God-of-destruction's name, let again its use twice. His younger sister sitting across from her mother stayed stock-still. She had been silent during the entire confrontation in the vein hope to stay neutral, but things like this always have a tendency to involve the entire family.

Elliay had always enjoyed watching her older brother work on the simulator in his room. She would sneak out of her own room at night on occasion so she could watch Tyorin perform in the darkened space. It was always better to watch at night because Tyorin could turn on the extended projectors on his simulator so as to fill the whole room with the expanse of space. And there was no experience quite like lying on the bed and watching her older brother rip apart the Triikors which raced about.

She had always been nervous about supporting her brother because of her parents. And she was sure they knew she did but they had not pressed her over the issue. She reasoned that as long as she didn't herself participate any further than watching, they considered her old enough to make some of her own decisions.

Tyorin kicked his chair out from behind him and stormed back to his room. His mother sitting at the table fuming and his father still stood at the head of the table, astounded at his own son's audacity. His decision was made then and there, he turned to his wife, "We have to do something about that boy and his game…" his face still glowing red, his wife slowly nodded and stood with Elliay. Diner sat on the table, losing heat.

As much as they _hated _the things that Tyorin loved, Elliay knew they didn't hate him. They were just as mad at themselves for letting such a thing happen. Many a night she had seen her mother cry herself to sleep over what Tyorin was doing.

Her father had confided in her once during a drive into town that on top of the Kiith's hatred of war, their family lines had been cut completely by the destruction of Kharak and their father and mother both wanted nothing more to do with anything concerning war. And while that was over three generations ago, the feelings were just as strong as the moment their great, great grandparents had awoken from their long slumber. And while that didn't exactly tell Elliay the whole story, she took it as enough and didn't press her father on the issue any further.

Tyorin's younger sister hustled away after her brother. Their parents went to their own room to discuss the latest development concerning their eldest child. She knocked twice, "Tyorin?" she asked gently at the door.

An audible sigh came from beyond, "Come in Elliay."

The younger girl of sixteen opened the door cautiously and stepped inside. She closed the door behind her with equal care, nervous that any excessive noise would set her older brother off again.

After she closed the door she merely stood there like a timid animal. This show of anger from her brother had been one of the worst yet. Last week there had been four arguments between Tyorin and their parents. Elliay noted to herself that things were progressively getting worse, not better as Tyorin had promised.

Elliay spoke first, "Tyorin…" was all that would come out, her saddened tone carrying through the room. She worked up the courage to continue after a few moments pause, "You promised me that you would try to stop fighting with mom and dad." The young girl cringed a little when she mentioned their parents to her most likely still enraged brother.

Tyorin sat across the room with his simulation seat turned to face the open window. He was leaning back in the chair with his head laid back against the rest, his eyes glazed over a bit and starring longingly off into the starry night sky. His model Blade fighter held in his hands, painted a deep-crimson red in contrast to the ever-sky blue that shone from the model box in the corner of the room. He looked more saddened than angry now, not that Elliay liked either expression coming from him.

Tyorin turned his chair to look at his younger sibling, "I know I promised Elliay, and I'm sorry about tonight." He sighed, putting together his next words, "But, it's hard to do anything in the same room with them. They just can't get over it."

Tyorin felt his anger twinge inside himself again and leaned forward in his seat. Elbows resting on his knees, hands gripping the model he held. Tyorin's anger rose again as he ran over the nights events in his mind. The fighter creaked and groaned under the pressure that Tyorin was unknowingly submitting it to.

Elliay walked from the doorway. Heaving herself up onto her brother's bed, she leaned over and reached for his pillow. Seizing it; she held it across her chest and rested her chin on top with both arms crossed around the pillow, holding it against herself.

She looked back over to her brother; seeing him seething at the thoughts of his parents, the same parents Elliay had and loved. She was sure that Tyorin didn't really hate his parents; he just hated some of the things they had done. And likewise she knew their parents didn't really hate him; they just hated what he was becoming.

This fight tonight had been one of the worst yet, and she had only seen her brother so angry once before, two weeks ago when his father walked into Tyorin's room when he was working away at the simulator. Things just went downhill from there.

Their parents tried to stay out of Tyorin's room for the most part now-a-days, mostly because they couldn't stand to see all the posters and pictures of the Blades and Triikors all over the walls. That was how much they hated the whole idea of war; they couldn't even look at mere pictures of war machines.

Elliay had a vague understanding of why they were so pacifistic. Tyorin however, had no such admission from his father to help him understand, and so he had been left in the dark. Elliay wanted to tell him so much, but her father had sworn her to secrecy after what he told her that day.

As far as Elliay was concerned, Tyorin could do anything he wanted to, so long as he was happy with his decisions. It didn't matter to Elliay if Tyorin became a fighter pilot, sure it was dangerous but that wasn't enough reason to hate the idea entirely.

But what they were the most afraid of was losing their son. Elliay guessed that was exactly what was happening, and trying to _force_ another outcome, as they were trying to do, was only accelerating the process.

Elliay saw Tyorin's expression turn from pure anger to a saddened expression again, now being merely laced with traces of anger here and there between thoughts. "What are you thinking Tyorin?" she asked somberly, praying to herself that she hadn't crossed some line by asking, possibly in Tyorin's eyes, what was too sensitive or personal of question.

Tyorin seemed to have been broken from his reverie at his sister's odd question. He looked inquisitively at her, almost as if searching for the answer there in her eyes instead of his own head.

"What am I thinking?" Tyorin repeated back methodically as he looked back to his model and realized the pressure he was subjecting to it. Slightly loosening the grip he held on it, he leaned back into his flight seat, letting his head come against the rest a little harder than normal. It hit with a soft 'thump' and he turned his eyes to the stars that still blanketed the otherwise bare, black sky.

He looked back to his sister after a few moments, pleading with his eyes, "Please understand Elliay… I'm not trying to abandon you, mom, dad or anyone… I'm not trying to abandon the Kiith." Tyorin's sight wandered back to the open window. His feelings pouring out to his little sister.

Though she was younger, she was bright for her age and understood things many years her senior. And having her undying trust of the 'ever-perfect' figure of her older brother, Tyorin had found it so much easier to confide in his sister than he had found in anyone else. His Kiith's rejection of him didn't help his ability to make many friends either. And the friends that he did have abandoned him as soon as they learned of his growing interest in flying. He didn't want to put his sister through the feeling of abandonment because he knew what it was like.

He had to be sure that Elliay understood this.

Tyorin felt compelled to share this personal insight with his sister; for fear that she would lose trust in him if he didn't. Even though knowing the friends he used to have left him because of the Blade fighter, part of him was sure Elliay would not do the same to him.

He didn't want to even begin to imagine what would happen if she ever found out that he was afraid of her following his "friends'" example. However, Tyorin was really too self-conscious to risk it.

His eyes faltered a bit, "I just feel so out of place…" he looked to Elliay over on the bed, who had lifted her head from the pillow in interest. "I feel confined, and I'm quickly getting claustrophobic. I need to get out Elliay…" he paused his thoughts. Wrestling with the monster in his mind, knowing what it was, "I need to get away." His realization to himself came too fast to keep it from coming off his tongue.

His eyes widened and the Blade model clattering to the floor.

Elliay's eyes widened as well as she processed her brother's meaning, "you're gonna leave?" her eyes were wide with shock more than surprise and the shock itself was quickly being drowned out with sadness. Tears quickly began to well up behind her eyes, threatening to pour over her brother's pillow. "But Tyorin," She snuffed out a sob, "You can't just leave!"

Tyorin had been planning on going to the Sobanii Flight School sooner or later. He had always assumed it would be later because of his parents. But having put all the pieces together in his head finally, something he had been reluctant to do because he knew what it would mean. He knew he would have to finish his training himself and then go to the school on his own. He couldn't count on anyone helping him, he was on his own. Elliay was the only one who ever seemed to want to help him, and as much as that was appreciated, it only came in a limited sense. She could only help him so far.

A tear escaped its creators control, landing on Tyorin's pillow.

Tyorin reached down to pick up his fallen model and had already spun his seat around to face the wall before he caught his sister's reaction. He bent over and placed the model on the ground to the simulator's side before standing. Walking over swiftly, he jumped up onto the bed, landed with a heavy thud right next to Elliay. She bounced a little, meriting a small chuckle as she righted herself. Tyorin skill for lightening his sister's mood had always come in handy on nights like this.

Elliay looked up into the dark-blue eyes of her hero. Tyorin looked back into the innocent stars that shone at him. Elliay accidentally let another tear stream down her face as she latched onto her brother's waist, "You can't just leave! You can't just leave me here!" The girl was indeed scared of being left alone, and Tyorin was entirely at fault for that fear.

Tyorin was the one that was always being left alone and behind. And just like all younger siblings do, Elliay saw her brother going through all of that and tucked it away in her mind. She knew what it did to Tyorin and she didn't want to go through any of the same things. Though she knew she was taking a risk supporting her brother, she knew that if she abandoned him, it would be the last straw for him. That thought scared her the most.

Tyorin pulled back from his sister's embrace and looked at her, "listen to me Elliay," he paused as he waited for her to finish her sniffling and look up at him, "I'm not leaving anyone, and I won't be really leaving for a while." He looked back to his simulator, "and even when I do leave, I will always be there for you." He shifted his gaze back to his sister.

She dropped her gaze to wipe her tears from her eyes with the back of her hands. Her face stayed down when she spoke again, "I understand Tyorin…" she looked back up to him, "I really do understand… and when you do go…promise me…" she blinked, one last tear escaped her. She looked from the simulator to the now closed window then back to Tyorin's face, "Promise me…. You'll fly as high as you can…"

Tyorin blinked twice then smiled gently, "I promise, you can count on it." He pulled his sister in and hugged her tightly. She would be the hardest one to leave.

Elliay smiled under her brother's loving embrace. He pulled back away from her and looked back at her, "I hear those Sobanii instructors can give real hell…" she smiled as a puzzled look came over Tyorin's features, "So you'd better get back to work." She nodded her head towards the simulator, emphasizing her last word.

Tyorin followed her nod with a glance and found the simulator. He smiled again when he looked back to Elliay. She smiled back as he jumped off the bed and walked over to the simulator.

He flipped a switch on the back of the seat's headrest and the projectors started their work. A low hum sounded as light began to swim and gather around the simulator. The lights flowed together in an upward spiral until converging on a single spot directly above the chair. Tyorin looked at Elliay before taking a seat in the chair under the apex of light.

Elliay smiled as he glanced back and lay forward on the pillow to watch Tyorin do what he loved.

Once in the seat, the small sphere of light still swirling above the seat exploded and drew down around the chair, surrounding Tyorin in a virtual cockpit. Sitting in the chair he reached down to his right and pulled up the forward console from its clipped position on the side of the seat. He snapped it into position and gripped the two control sticks to his either side. He lifted his feet from the floor and tapped the front of the seat with his heal. The seat rolled back onto its gyro as four foot pedals extended from the front of the seat. He placed his feet on the pedals and Elliay came back to his mind, smiling he put one foot back to the ground and pushed off to spin his seat around to face her on the bed.

Her smile widened as the simulator spun so she could see her brother.

Tyorin pulled his foot back to the pedal he reached to the right side of the headrest and flipped another switch. A faintly louder humming sounded as the external projectors booted up. Shortly after, a brighter light flashed from the sides of the seat and shot to the ceiling, slowly moving its way back down, painting his ceiling and walls with the expanse of space.

Golden suns shone from a side of the room as blood-red nebulae shone from the other; both sides seeming to compete for dominance of the middle of the room. Stars stuttered the blank space in-between both phenomenon. Tyorin started the boot-up process for the last simulation he was running.

He looked past his HUD to Elliay as she lay on the bed admiring the vivid decorations covering the room. He smiled as the controls to his left beeped twice, showing the system was booted and ready. He lifted his right hand over to the sequence controls. His mother had interrupted his last battle and starting from where he left off would be useless and starting from scratch was always better anyway. _The more practice the better…_ he thought gleefully to himself and his index finger pressed the engage sequence switch.

The seat immediately lifted slightly on his gyro to give the impression of being afloat. Tyorin switched the sound over to the head-piece he pulled from its cradle on the headrest, placing it over his head and fitting the left earpiece into his ear. Next, he pulled out one of his two portable head sets and tossed it through the virtual image to Elliay still lying on the bed.

She nearly fell from the bed reaching to catch it. She pulled the headset over her ears and resumed watching the start up sequence.

"Fear My Skies..." he whispered to himself before clearing his head of any thoughts not related to the coming battle.

He listened to the virtual plasma engine of his blood-red fighter purr behind him, accelerating the chassis toward the approaching 'X' formation of eleven standard yellow Triikors.

He pulled up and to the right so as to come at the approaching fighters at an angle, spear-heading an 'X' formation of Triikors alone was akin to suicide. At least doing so from the direct from was defiantly suicide. Coming in at an angle was slightly less suicidal; which is just what Tyorin was planning to do.

When he reached the angle desired, he pushed his engine to its limits. Seeing his speed estimation readouts were the only way to tell his speed since he couldn't feel the G-forces in his simulator. He also had to rely on the readouts to give him other critical information regarding the status of his fighter.

The formation of Triikors began to swing around to present more of their accumulative firepower to Tyorin's rebellious fighter. He saw them expertly pull the two furthest legs of the 'X' around to bring their guns forward.

He was ready for such a tactic however and turned to blast through their center fighter. He judged that the distance he had gained in his initial approach, plus his angle of approach and their formation's turning angle meant they wouldn't be able to track him properly as he closed.

On top of that he reasoned that taking out the lead fighter would throw their command chain all over the place, if only for a few seconds.

But just the same, those seconds on the field of battle always took an eternity and were almost always, for a fighter pilot at least, the difference between life and death.

Tyorin reasoned that the benefits outweighed the risks, so he took the chance. His fighter turned towards the center of the formation as they were turning. They began firing their mass drivers at the single, quickly approaching Blade fighter, but to no avail. Tyorin had been correct in his quick calculations and all the enemy rounds slid through empty space, directly behind Tyorin's fighter.

The center fighter came into his crosshairs and Tyorin unleashed Hell in the form of his dual, quad-barreled mass drivers. The red-hot nickel-iron slugs flew for the Triikor, its position in the center of the formation also meant it had little room to maneuver for fear of hitting its comrades, unfortunate for the virtual fighter.

The melon sized slugs zipped just to the left of the Triikor and began sweeping to the right. The rounds hitting the nose weapon housing, shattering the chain linkage inside before moving on towards the cockpit, with was equally battered, the light protection the ferro-glass window provided stood little chance against the onslaught of Tyorin's rail-drivers. The cockpit shattered, instantly disabling the fighter. The rain was not over, however, and further swept back along the spine of the fighter until the rounds reached the primary weapon housing on the left side of the fighter.

As Tyorin witnessed the rounds tearing into the Triikor's main weapon he saw on opportunity and quickly acted on it. Making a minor course correction he angled his fighter so the last of the rail rounds would hit the right side of the fighter, opposite the main weapon.

The large bulk off to the side served the Triikor three important purposes; one, it helped to pull the center of gravity between the main spine and the primary mass-driver which in turn helped give the fighters the unique ability to "roll-the-gun".

The second purpose was the plasma that flowed through the container in its storage loop to keep it from solidifying until it was sent through the literal blast furnace and blasted out of the rear of the fighter.

The third purpose, which was the one Tyorin was taking advantage of, was that all the munitions for the fighter were stored in that highly volatile little bottle.

Tyorin let a sly grin slide across his face when he witnessed what happened next. The metal slugs ripped into the containment area mercilessly, sparks emanated from the fighter's right side in torrents.

The Triikor took three quarters of a roll before Tyorin rushed past, racing his own shots straight through the enemy formation. The disable fighter finished its final quarter roll before the ammo stored ignited in a hellish orange ball; obliterating the fighter and pushing the four fighters to its ten, two, four, and eight o'clock position outwards.

The pushed fighters slammed into their counterparts next in line in the formation; damaging three and critically damaging the last. Unfortunately for Tyorin the chain didn't continue further out, but he was sure that if the explosion had been larger it would have. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind to explore further at a later time.

Now that he was behind the very confused formation of Triikors, Tyorin decided to take advantage of their predicament. He ripped back on the control stick to force his fighter to swing upwards; he cut the engines as he did this, causing the back of the fighter to swing out from behind him. It was Tyorin's own version of "rolling-the-gun", which the Triikors so much enjoyed.

His ability to use the enemies against themselves had been one of his biggest advantages in his training in the past two years. And he continued improving his skills.

As he swung around, the top of the left-most arm of the 'X' came into view. Tyorin unleashed his rail guns once more, throwing scattered shots at the confused fighters still reeling from his last attack. The furthest fighter in the formation was hit multiple times but failed to detonate due to the differing angle of the shots narrowly missing vital areas.

The rounds continued to sweep further towards the center of the formation and the second and third fighters were not so lucky.

The second fighter taking mostly engine hits lost its plasma shielding around the reactor and storage and succumbed to the perilous release of the plasma fuel. The plasma burst explosion rippled out; further damaging the outermost fighter and the whipping debris sheared off the primary mass driver of the last Triikor. With its center of gravity thrown completely off, the pilot had very little chance of making a difference in the rest of the battle.

The third fighter however had already turned to face Tyorin's Blade when the slugs began to pummel it. The cockpit was the hardest hit and the pilot would have suffered from much the same fate of the ferro-glass, which shattered outwards. Unlike the previous fighter, however, Tyorin was not in complete control of his blasts at this point in his roll and so the aft ammo storage unit was not hit. The fighter floated helplessly, bereft of a brain to control it.

Checking his screens as his fighter wheeled around, he saw no armour loss or damage and so trading his trigger for throttle, he pressed on.

Elliay may not have known the first thing about fighter combat but even she could tell that if a pilot managed to damage three fighters, destroy three, and critically damage two others on their first run without taking any damage; they were doing pretty good. She smiled at Tyorin and the determined look she saw on his face as his simulator seat whirled him around into her view again.

Tyorin didn't have to glance at his speed estimations to tell he was moving quite quickly. The enemy fighters had finally regrouped as he charged at them. The undamaged Triikors now held a spread-out 'Switched Delta' formation to avoid any more damage from friendlies. The second formation was a staggered 'wall' formation which was occupied by the damaged units. Making the total count five damaged Triikors in the 'Wall' formation and three in the 'Switched Delta' formation.

Tyorin checked to himself that he would have to start targeting enemies individually to take them out now. Even against the damaged fighters because every-other slot in the 'Wall' formation was left unoccupied thanks to the stagger they had applied to it. Both formations were still very dangerous however and Tyorin would have to be cautious now that he faced two separate fronts.

_I have to get them together, or at least line them up. _Tyorin veered his fighter towards the quickly approaching 'Delta'. _Gotta get past 'em!_

Tyorin pushed his throttle to afterburner as the 'Delta' grew closer. The three Triikors not relieving their firing in any way lest they risk letting Tyorin get another shot in. This was fine by him as he wasn't trying to knock them down just yet anyhow.

Veering to the left to avoid more fire he set loose a few quick shots to the close, left-most fighter of the 'Delta' to get them to fly to Tyorin's right. The corralling worked, much to Tyorin's delight, and the three fighters in the 'Switch Delta' moved in front of the 'Wall' of damaged fighters; preventing them from directing their vindication toward Tyorin's Blade.

Tyorin banked hard left as soon as he saw his corralling attempt bear fruit. Both formations turned to make chase. The 'Wall' formation lagged behind, waiting for the more damaged fighters to keep up. Tyorin pressed into the afterburner again to get some distance between himself and the pursuing 'Delta' wing.

After gaining the space he desired, Tyorin pulled back on the control stick and slowed his engines enough to give his fighter the rear sliding properties he desired, getting him turned back the way he came faster.

He looked down his sights and saw the approaching 'Delta' wing with the 'Wall' not too far behind. Tyorin made his decision of targets and centered his crosshairs on the wobbling center fighter of the 'Wall' formation.

Waiting a split second for the 'Delta' fighters to get a little closer to his center crosshairs, he let his rail-guns spit out a hellfire of slugs toward the center of the 'Wall'. As he started firing he also pressed back into his afterburners yet again, rushing toward the enemy formations in an attempt to break past the 'Delta'. The 'Delta' fighters began firing wildly at him. Startled by his choice of targets and trying desperately to defend their comrades from his fiery rain.

But it was to no avail, as the damaged fighter could do little in the way of quick, complex maneuvers to avoid Tyorin's fire. The rails rushed into the Triikor with little heed for the damage they would undoubtedly cause. The slugs slammed into the main mass-driver to the left side of the Triikor's spinal line; shredding whatever armour it had remaining and igniting the munitions that had been stored there waiting to be fired. The ammo ignited and the port-side cannon exploded. The explosion tore into the main spine of the fighter as well, causing it to tumble through space, disabled completely.

He watched the Triikor he had damaged spin and tumble out of formation, leaving a large hole in the 'Wall' formation for him to slip through.

He jutted his fighter down and up again to avoid more enemy fire from the near point-blank ranges of the 'Delta' wing. A few stray shots glanced off of his port-rear armour, doing no real damage.

Tyorin whipped past the 'Delta' wing and was thoroughly surprised when the 'Wall' formation kept the hole open and opened fire on him, making no attempt whatsoever to close the gap. _They either want to keep it open for me, or keep it open to further avoid more damage to themselves. _

Tyorin was surprised next to see a flash of light come from behind him. He snuck a glance behind him to see the 'Delta' wing had quickly spun around to come after him and one of the fighters had been hit by friendly fire, tumbling sideways shortly before exploding.

Apparently the 'Wall' fighters had been more surprised by his choice of targets than the 'Delta' wing had been. Tyorin let a short snicker out as he slipped through the hole left by his last attack. The two remaining fighters from the 'Delta' wing swept outwards and around the 'Wall' formation and moved to an even 'Broad' formation as the 'Wall' fighters tried to recollect themselves and turn their formation around again to face Tyorin's Blade once more.

_Their command structure has to look like crap right now, and no doubt the two good fighters are bitching the hell out of the damaged fighters for killing on of their own…_ Tyorin let a slightly longer snicker escape his lips and quickly recounted his kills as he put some more distance between himself and the remaining fighters.

Leaving only two undamaged fighters, two damaged, and two critically damaged, Tyorin checked his fuel supply and was not happy to see himself almost down to one-third his original supply remaining. He had to finish this quickly…

Abandoning the afterburner idea to conserve fuel, Tyorin flipped his fighter onto its back and ripped back on the control stick again, pulling his Blade below the pursuing fighters. The undamaged fighters tried to follow the move but failed as the upgraded Blade rushed past beneath them, heading back toward the damaged 'Wall'.

Unfortunately for Tyorin, the two bottom fighters of the 'Wall' were not the critically damaged ones. Tyorin lined up another shot and fired a thick spread sent to sweep the two partially damaged Triikors of the bottom row of the 'Wall'. The slugs showed true and impacted the bottom fuselage of the left fighter, ripping off the two bottom rear stabilizers and tearing open the drive vents towards the back. Which would normally have severely limited its maneuverability but the open drive vents effectively robbed the fighter of all engine power; stranding it in space.

The stabilizers on the Triikor were crucial for the maneuvering of the fighter in space, as the plasma vents on the end were an excellent innovation by the Taiidani engineers. The offset maneuvering thrusters gave the Triikor an even sharper learning curve but gave it even more complex dog-fighting abilities to the aces.

These AI virtual fighters weren't bad but they were far, far from ace. But then again, it was just software...

The shots swept further and clawed at the second Triikor sharing the bottom row. The heavy slugs ripped into the bottom of the fuselage in much the same way as the first fighter. But the angle of impact was closer to being strait on, allowing them to pierce into the light armour.

The shots sheered off the front muzzle of the forward mounted weapon and moved backward to impact underneath the cockpit. The zoom allowed Tyorin to see at least two slugs pierce the soft under-armour of the Triikor and slice through the cockpit. The fighter tumbled, giving out to inertia and the lack of a controller.

The two disabled fighters continued tumbling, uninhibited by the void of space… at least until they collided; releasing more plasma and igniting ammo stores. The two fighters tumbled together momentarily before detonating in a large incandescent orange fireball.

Tyorin released the zoom and watched the fighters end each other's misery. A costly mistake, as that second brought a great rumbling through the frame of his fighter.

Tyorin felt the rumbling turn to quaking as he recognized the weapon's fire. He looked above and saw the two remaining undamaged fighters bearing down on him, hard.

He broke off his charge and banked hard left. Checking his readouts, his propulsion was cut by a third and right-way handling would be a problem. He cursed his rookie mistake and continued his left bank, trying to break the pursuing fighters from his flank; a fruitless attempt as they could now easily keep pace and outmaneuver him. He instead followed through with his bank until the remaining two critically damaged fighters came back to his view, exposing their rear flank to Tyorin's rail-drivers.

The critically damaged fighter on the right side of the now 'Broad' formation came into sight range first and Tyorin let out a full barrage into the crippled Triikor. The fighters leaking plasma drive succumbed to the punishment and overloaded, engulfing the fighter in its blue-white fury.

Tyorin saw bolts of munitions zoom past his cockpit and knew that the remaining good fighters had closed and were doing their best to finish him before he destroyed the last damaged fighter, and another comrade.

Tyorin would not be stopped this far into his attack however and swept his guns to target the remaining critically damaged Triikor. The fighter gave into his assault quickly as the nickel slugs pounded into the aft portion of the fighter, it tumbled and small explosions could be spotted all along the internal portions of the drive system. More rounds hitting between the main drive portion and the cockpit. Plus the added stress the fighter induced onto itself as it tumbled became its own death sentence as the two halves of the fighter were torn apart from each other. The cockpit half tumbled helplessly as the drive portion detonated shortly after separation.

Tyorin smile faded as he was reminded of the fighters following closely behind. He felt the hits getting progressively worse until suddenly his cockpit view was whisped away and he looked at his fighter from a distance, still being pounded by the pursuing pair.

The Blade ignited as it passed amongst the debris of the Triikors it had ravaged only moments before. The two fighters passed the explosion on either side of the debris field.

Small, black, block letters appeared before Tyorin, "Simulation Ended… Rebooting System…" Tyorin repeated back to himself as he read the words aloud. Those words were what always reminded Tyorin that he was still back at home; in his small room, merely fooling his senses with the mimic of surrounding space that he longed to truly fly through.

Those words were also a harsh reminder that what he was doing was defiantly not a game. The words came up abruptly, and without any feeling. Unlike those in a game, which so often faded into view with giant blood red letters. Taunting the user, and adding insult to injury.

Tyorin sighed and flipped the 'disengage sequence' switch.

The virtual world around him faded to black as the holo-projectors whined down and the bright lights around him from the sun and competing nebulae vanishing to nothing. He folded back the foot pedals and command console then stood from the chair and stretched. A mild smile crossed his face as he looked over to Elliay who saw upright on the bed.

She tossed back the headset she had used and smiled to Tyorin, "I believe eleven against one with a nine fighter difference is a new record…even if you did lose."

His smile widened at her optimism, remembering the last record he had read from the Flight Academy. "It may be a record, but I still want to best twelve before I go." He reminded her of his goal as he hung his own headset back against the headrest and snapped Elliay's headset back into its compartment along with the last spare.

He looked back at her as he scooted the seat into the corner of the room, "you had better get to bed, it's getting late." He checked his watch, he saw it read only around nine o'clock but he was already tired from the night's events. He needed a way to get Elliay out of his room… "And you have school in the morning." He continued weakly, knowing she would see straight through it.

She smiled at him and stood from his bed holding the pillow in one hand, stretching. She walked over and hit Tyorin in the side of the head once with the pillow before handing it to him. "Punk…" she smiled and turned on her heal to the door. She took a moment to admire the Beastslayer logo before quietly opening the door and walking from the room, closing the door just as quietly after her. She was cautious not to make too much noise as she entered her own room, lest she alert their parents that she was in Tyorin's room instead of already sleeping.

Tyorin smiled, shaking his head as he walked over to his bed. He stood at the foot and launched himself in the air, pulling the pillow up to his face. He landed with a heavy thump and bounced a few times before settling down in his place.

He looked over the posters of fighters emblazoned over his walls and smiled inwardly, "Just three more Triikors…" he mumbled quietly to himself before rolling over and closing his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 -

The sound of rustling gravel woke Tyorin from his slumber. He sat up in bed, the blankets rolling off his back. Groggily, he looked about his room then down to himself. _Why am I still dressed?_ The memory of the previous night filled his mind. The sour memories of his parents mixed with those of his sister and the simulator.

_Oh yeah…_ He pulled the blankets back and tossed his legs from the covers, the cool morning air stinging his feet and toes. He looked to his wall to see the window open, letting the crisp morning air invade his room.

_I specifically remember closing that last night…_ he yawned before pulling his pants off. The cold air having already defeated his feet now moved to his exposed legs. He winced when the air hit him_ …for that exact reason._

He closed quickly with the window and forced it shut before continuing to his bathroom and closing the door.

After his morning shower he emerged from his room fully clothed once again. The kitchen, thankfully, had all of its windows closed. The shades remained open however, inviting the bright, yellow morning sun to permeate the small home. The kitchen was small and almost seemed to invite people to bake in it. Pristine white counters surrounded the room, spaced with trinkets and jars with spices and such things.

Smelling the strong aroma of cinnamon, Tyorin proceeded to the counter where he found the source; a half-dozen fresh rolls. Taking a plate with three rolls for himself he continued to the living room. The only thing that separated the kitchen from the living room was the large mahogany table that had belonged to his grandmother before she passed away. Six matching chairs were all neatly spaced and pushed under the table.

The living room was equally inviting with its soft decor that his mother had expertly placed. There was a pair of dark blue couches set at a ninety degree angle. A small glass lamp-stand rounded off the corner between the two couches. A holovid sat in the corner opposite the couches and large wall windows reached around the room behind it.

The holovid was already on and blaring out the new day's news to no-one in particular. At least that's what Tyorin thought until he fell into the smaller couch, sitting down on a foot.

Barely recovering his breakfast before it fell to the carpet; he stood to see Elliay sprawled out on the seat. She lay there looking up at him, barely managing to contain herself. She moved her leg out of the way and let out a snicker as Tyorin resumed his place on the couch.

"I thought you had school this morning?" He muttered through half a roll, his eyes never leaving the Holovid. "And why," he turned to look at her this time, "didn't you say anything when I tried to sit down?" He finished by stuffing the second half of his first roll into his mouth and looking back to the H.V.

Her eyes stayed to the holovid as well, though she let out a short laugh before answering. "First of all; it's the weekend. Kinda hard to go to school when there is none…"

"Punk…" he cut in, picking up the next roll.

She ignored his comment. "And I didn't say anything because I never would've been able to forgive myself for breaking up such a perfect picture…" she started laughing hysterically as she replayed the scene in her head. "You trying to sit your zombie-ass down with a mouth full of cinnamon and your eyes half closed!" She barely managed to get the last of her sentence out before losing all composure and burying her head in the sofa cushion to muffle the laughter.

He looked back to her, swallowing the second roll. "Hey, I'm tired! And you need to watch your mouth young lady!" He emphasized his last statement by hitting her leg with the back of his hand.

She pulled her head out of the couch and shot daggers at him, "Don't tell me what to do! I'm a big girl!"

It was Tyorin's turn to laugh.

Elliay responded by hitting him with the cushion, "And _you're_ the punk!"

Tyorin stood, ignoring the pillow, licking his fingers. He turned back towards the kitchen, "I'm assuming you were the one that opened my window this morning." He rounded the couch when Elliay looked from the H.V. to him, "Obviously trying to give me hypothermia." He said under his breath.

She watching him pass up the couch then lay back on her arm to watch the news again before answering. "Nope, Dad opened your window and Mom pulled your blankets over you." She sat up and turned around on the couch. She leaned against the back of the couch with her arms crossed over the top and her chin on her forearm, "I wanted to put your thumb in your mouth but Mom wouldn't let me."

"Punk…" He muttered again just loud enough for her to hear. He put his plate in the sink and turned on the water. The dishes from last night were still there. Tyorin reasoned that Elliay must have done away with the food and put them in the sink this morning.

"But the hypothermia idea is a good one." Her smile reached far across her face, "I'll write it down for you…" Tyorin scrubbed his hands as the water warmed up.

"_Little _punk…" he stated clearly this time; meriting an angered "Hey!" from Elliay. Tyorin put his hand in the water to test the temperature, yanking his fingers back from the scolding water and waving them around violently as he used his free hand to make a much-needed adjustment.

He dug the sponge out of the pile of dishes and pulled the soap from under the sink along with a small dish-towel, which he threw at Elliay. "Come help me with these dishes." He told her as the towel landed on her head.

She pulled off the towel and stepped from the couch, on her way to the sink. She grabbed Tyorin's still flailing hand and wrapped it in the towel. "I cleaned off the table and put the food away." She smiled, pulling the towel from his hand and hitting him upside the head with it. "So you owe me one, you can do the dishes." She turned to walk away with her nose in the air when Tyorin laughed again.

"Oh we've started keeping count have we?" His sly grin hiding nothing, "Then why don't we take inventory…" He put the towel and sponge on the counter and brought his hands up to count off his fingers.

Elliay had turned back to face him, her face turned grave.

He touched the tip of his first finger, "Tillior…" His smile only widened, "We both remember _him _don't we?" He knew Elliay wouldn't answer. "But I will let that one slide, it makes us even."

Their parents had forbid her from dating until she was a solid eighteen years old. And being as how she was only three months from seventeen, she was still well under that law. But how many parents could effectively stop their daughters from dating at almost seventeen?

_None…_ thought Tyorin. And he knew it was true.

On numerous occasions, being the _big, strong, brave,_ older brother he was; he had covered for his sister when she would come home late or smell funny or not be hungry for diner. Tyorin had always backed her up saying he had taken her to a friend's house earlier and forgotten to pick her up or made a large snack for themselves earlier that night before diner.

Always willing to take the fall for his sister. _And times like this is when it all pays off. _He thought to himself. If he could, he probably would have laughed maniacally, but he held it in and continued the count.

"Next we have the thirteenth… remember _Black Tuesday?_" they had effectively dubbed it, also referred to as the Tuesday from Hell. Tyorin wasn't going to get into that in detail, he didn't need to.

The count continued, "Then we have Muridio, Piloy, Ryuni…" he looked into the air above Elliay to add effect, "Who else…" he wondered aloud even though he could continue the list for another two or maybe three handfuls if he used other days as well. He dropped his hands and looked back to Elliay, "It seems to me you've been _awfully_ busy."

Defeated, she walked back to the counter and picked up the towel. "C'mon, let's get this over with." She said curtly, not looked at Tyorin.

He turned back to the sink, having defeated his sister. _The only thing left to do now is rub it in._ "Don't get a bad attitude with me…" he picked up the sponge and tested the water again, "_Young lady._"

Elliay's face turned red, she snapped to attention and threw up a mock salute, "Sir, Yes, Sir." She nearly yelled at him before dropping the salute and turning back to the counter.

Tyorin stopped her, "Wait... do that again." _Have to get the most out of this…_

She looked up at him, the shadow of a glare in her eyes.

"Salute again; I wanna see your salute." He crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his foot when she wouldn't respond to his request.

She huffed before finally giving out. Turning back to him, she pulled her heels together and put her right hand to her forehead.

He tried to hold back a laugh, "first of all," he started to correct her, "Your arm needs to be at a ninety degree angle with your body at the shoulder and a forty-five degree angle at your elbow."

He adjusted her arm and continued. "Your fingers would be touching the brim of your cover just to the right of your right eye." Elliay rolled her eyes as he went on correcting her.

"And second," he stepped back from her, having fixed her posture. "You never, _ever_, salute without your cover on." He patted her on the head before continuing, "Your cover is your hat," He smiled evilly at her, "Which you never, _ever_, wear indoors." He turned back to the dishes.

He buried his hands in the suds and started scrubbing before going on, "So it's another way of saying that you never, _ever, _salute indoors. Though there are of-course some special circumstances, but we don't need to get into that do we?" Tyorin flashed a mocking smile at her before digging his hands again into the sink.

Tyorin pulled a clean plate from the sink and handed it to Elliay for her to dry off. "And when you salute…"

"They don't ever, _ever,_ want to see the palm of your hand." She finished for him, drying off the plate and placing it in the cupboard above her. "No _special circumstances_ with that though."

"And the only ones you salute are…" he continued, unfazed by his sister's interruption.

"…Officers, with some _special circumstances_ of-course." She finished for him again, drying off a glass this time. "Have you ever thought that maybe I do it wrong just to piss you off?"

"I know that's the exact reason you do it wrong." He handed her another plate. "And I correct you every time just to piss you off in return." He smiled at her as she turned red again.

They finished the dishes quickly and Elliay hit Tyorin again with the towel before turning on her heel to head back to the couch.

"Thank you." He replied as he pulled the wet towel from his face. "And what's with hitting me in the head all the time?" He put the towel on the hanger in front of the sink and walked after her.

"Just making sure there's still something there to hit." She plopped herself back into the sofa and looked back to the holovid.

Tyorin ignored the comment and moved behind the couch to rest his hands on its back. "Where did Mom and Dad go?" He asked blankly, looking into the H.V. himself.

"I'm not sure where they went but they were all dressed up when they left." She rolled over and looked back at Tyorin, "I'm sure it's nothing that concerns us." She added casually before rolling herself back towards the holovid.

"Yeah, you're probably right." He answered before turning around.

"Where are you going?" Elliay asked as she propped herself up against the back of the couch again.

"Unlike some people I know," He faked a cough which Elliay could just barely recognize her own name hidden within, "I have a job to do." He kept walking before turning the corner to the hallway. "I'll be back before dark." He called from behind the corner.

Elliay turned and sat back on the couch. "Oh, don't give me that 'job' garbage!" She yelled back at him from her place. "We both know it's just as much fun as it _wants_ to be work." She paused for a second, "The only real _work_ part about it is that you have to go six days a week."

"That may be true," Tyorin responded as he reemerged from around the corner with a jacket on and a backpack over his shoulders, "but _they_ don't know that…"

"They meaning Mom and Dad…" Elliay said to herself as Tyorin opened the door leading to the garage. "Have fun at _work_…" She called as the garage door closed.

"Yeah… he's defiantly the punk…" She thought to herself as she stepped from the couch.

After closing the door Tyorin zipped up his jacket and grabbed his helmet from the rack it rested on. Pulling it over his head he pressed the button under the chin to open the large garage door.

As the sunlight poured into the musky garage, Tyorin mounted his _lesser_ form of independence. The machine responded to his weight by starting up its hover-coils automatically and lifting from the stand it perched from.

_It may be more play than work but the best part is that it pays well too_. Tyorin smiled to himself as the hoverbike purred beneath him. He revved the coils a few more times before leaving the garage and zooming down the driveway.

Elliay stood at the kitchen window, watching him depart before closing the blinds and turning back to the holovid.

Tyorin continued down the road leading from his house until he encountered the main road, which he followed into the city.

Tyorin pulled into the parking lot of a large office building nestled between a five star restaurant and a used hover-car dealership.

_An unusual spot for this place._ Tyorin thought to himself for probably the millionth time as he parked his bike and dismounted. Pulling out the security key he listened to the hover coils retract back into the frame of the hover-bike. They won't come back out until the key is reinserted, that little feature cost Tyorin a pretty penny. He pulled his helmet off and clipped the buckle around one of the straps on his backpack.

Tyorin walked from the parking lot into the front lobby of the building. He looked to the clock as he walked in, _ten-forty… _early as usual. He noted to himself that he also had time to beat up on Elliay on Saturday mornings and still make it to work early.

Above the clock the words _Sobanii Technical Engineering_ blazed across the walls in the traditional blood-red colors of the Sobanii. The sign looked as always like it was about to jump off the wall and into hyperspace. Walking up to the front desk, he offered a good morning to the receptionist before inquiring as to where he was to be working today.

She ran through her records before reading off her computer screen, "Software and hardware testing team, Three-C. Third floor, room Alpha Six." She chirped in her usual happy morning tone before turning back to her fellow receptionist and continuing their conversation as if Tyorin had never appeared.

_Alpha six… software and hardware testing…_ Tyorin proceeded to the elevators and pushed the button for floor three. The elevator stopped at the second floor, of course, to admit a multitude of people in suits with briefcases and cell phones. A violent contrast to Tyorin who stood in the back of the elevator with his jeans and leather riding jacket, helmet still attached.

His ironic sense came over him as his eyes swept the people pressed into the elevator, reviewing the events of the previous night. _I don't fit in anywhere…_ he laughed silently to himself.

The third floor came along and the doors opened. Tyorin squeezed his way past suits and jackets reaching for the doors. An older woman in the front held the door for him as he finally reached open space. He passed his thanks to the woman as the doors slid closed.

He looked down the long hallway. Doors lined the walls all the way until the hallway curved out of his view. He looked above the nearest doorway, "Oscar Six." He said to himself as he started out down the hallway. _At least the first Alpha door I'll find will be number six… _thinking to himself; trying to keep his glass half-full as he confronted the trek in front of him.

He was reminded every time he had to do this just how big the building really was. After what seemed like an eternity of walking, he looked up to see a sign reading Alpha Six above the nearest door. _Thank Sajuuk… _He opened the door to see a spacious white room with a large simulation sphere held in the middle.

The sphere itself was a bright white color that barely shaded against the backdrop of the walls of the room. Swarming all over the sphere were about thirty techs by Tyorin's count. The sheaths of the eight hydraulic legs that suspended the sphere were shining white as well, while the eight hydraulic shafts that slid into each were beaming chrome.

"A brand new simulator…" A strong male voice said over Tyorin's left shoulder, startling him.

Tyorin turned to see the software engineer who had first offered him a job at the facility. "Jurin! They didn't tell me you were gonna be here!" Tyorin presented his right hand and shook Jurin's.

"And why would I want them to ruin the surprise?" The older man chuckled and guided Tyorin to a small office off to the left. He opened the door and allowed Tyorin to enter first.

"Well Jurin, I haven't seen you around here for a while. How have things been going?" Jurin had instructed Tyorin long ago when they met to dispense with formalities when around him, he personally hated such things. He may have been Soban but he wasn't part of the military, he didn't need to be treated like he was.

Jurin himself was the top engineer at Sobanii Electronics and was the leader of the group that produced the software for the Sobanii Flight School. "I've been alright Tyorin; things have been proceeding smoothly around here. How about back home? How are things with your parents?"

Jurin took his seat behind the only desk in the small office. Tyorin took a seat in one of the two small, stiff chairs in front of the desk. The office was sparsely decorated and not to Tyorin's surprise was painted a pristine white, to match the chairs and desk no doubt. Tyorin rolled his mind's eye.

"Well, you know how that is…" Jurin had known of the problems between Tyorin and his parents since they'd met. It had partially been Jurin's fault that Tyorin was in the spot he was in now with his parents. Jurin was the one that introduced him to the training software that the Academy used. Though Tyorin never blamed him for it; it was of course, _Tyorin's_ choice to accept the software as the gift that it was.

Tyorin continued for the next few minutes replaying the last few week's events with his parents to Jurin, ending with last night.

"Well that's no good." Jurin stated bluntly, twiddling a pencil in his fingers. "I'll assume that is the last thing you wanted to talk about so how about another question…" Jurin had been in-fact itching to ask Tyorin this next question for quite some time, "How have you been doing on your simulator exercises?" Jurin saw Tyorin's eyes light up and knew he had hit the correct button. Tyorin was in a bit of a stupor from recalling all the sad events back home over the past few weeks. Talking about something he enjoyed with someone else who really understood the mechanics involved was just what the doctor, or Jurin in this case, ordered.

For the better part of forty minutes, Tyorin recounted his simulation experiences with Jurin. Making notes on good points of the software and his own exploits.

Jurin had to put a hand up to stop Tyorin after he noted last night's record. "Tyorin, did you say you flew against eleven Triikors in an old Blade design…" he paused, recounting the facts, "...with no backup?"

"Yes." Tyorin assured him. He had numerous other things to talk about regarding the software and how the realism could be increased to help out pilots at the academy. _C'mon Jurin, keep up…_

However, Jurin was not thinking what Tyorin thought he was. "And Tyorin, how many Triikors did you take out before they got you?" Jurin's eyes boring into Tyorin's, looking for any indication of falsification. However, Jurin saw none and had always known Tyorin to be a painfully truthful person.

"I managed nine…" Tyorin replayed the last few seconds of the simulation back in his mind, "But just barely. The last one I think I just got lucky, getting enough hits in before the two following me got me." Tyorin thought again back to the simulation. "Yeah, that sounds about right, I got lucky on the last one. But I did have a solid eight kills." Tyorin noticed Jurin's expression, "Why?" His curiosity perked by his friend's seriousness.

"Tyorin, I have known many a pilot in my time. And I may not be part of the Sobanii military but I have many friends in high places. So let me be the first one to tell you that there is no such thing as luck when you are engaged in the middle of a bloody dogfight and nine of your comrades have already been torn to shreds. Seeing their bodies drift lifelessly through space." Jurin's voice faded off and his eyes glazed a bit.

Tyorin, shocked at Jurin's description of space battle, wondered at his friend's description of these events.

Jurin slowed his pencil fidgeting to a stop and inhaled deeply. "I don't know what you may have read about the Sobanii Flight Academy…" Jurin dropped the pencil he was playing with, seeming not to notice as it rolled onto the floor. "The best pilot ever produced by the Academy had a record of…"

"Six on one." Tyorin finished for him. "Right?"

"That is correct. However, there are a few technicalities that were left out of that report." Jurin scooted his chair back to lean forward and pick up his pencil.

"The six on one was actually one undamaged blade fighter against one undamaged Triikor, one moderately damaged Triikor, and four heavily damaged Triikors." Jurin pulled a drawer out of the desk and placed the pencil inside before continuing.

Tyorin remained shocked at the news just now reaching his ears. He knew he was _way_ ahead of his training now.

Jurin continued, "The original engagement had been sixteen Triikors against ten Blades. The battle raged until all the blades had been destroyed save one, which was untouched even at that point." Tyorin listened as Jurin leaned back a bit in his chair.

"Don't take this as me saying the pilot wasn't good, getting that far without getting damaged is damn good. But," Jurin's eyes seemed to pass through Tyorin, "getting that far undamaged was mostly because his wingmen rolled constantly to take hits for him. Rolling into enemy weapons fire to save your wingman… to save your friend."

_There is no greater love than a man who lays his life down for a friend._ The old saying instantly flew into Tyorin's mind. Another specific point of the news clipping also came back to Tyorin's mind. Jurin however, put it to words for him.

"The best record of a pilot _produced_ by the Academy." Jurin sighed. "Do you understand what that means Tyorin?"

Tyorin nodded his head, "That battle was real. The news said it took place in Hiigaran space about a week after the pilot had graduated. He went straight out to his first assignment and was only there for three days before that battle."

Tyorin had never seen this side of Jurin before. And while they had been in constant contact since they first met, they had never had a chance to get together and talk like this. And Tyorin always had the sinking feeling that there was something Jurin wasn't telling him when the topic of their discussions reached space combat.

Tyorin took the risk, "Jurin," he pulled up the rest of his question, "Who was that pilot?"

Jurin smiled, "His name was Jurin Kora Soban." He sighed again, "He gave up piloting two days after that battle. And hasn't touched a real flight stick since."

Tyorin had already put two and two together but hearing it still railed him.

Jurin leaned forward in his chair, resting his arms on the desk. "I begged all of my friends from the academy to push for the same orders." His expression turned solemn again and his eyes looked past Tyorin once more, "I begged and pleaded with them and our superiors. And I got what I wished for." He inhaled, "We all went to the same carrier assignment. The Shurrien-Sha, sister fleet of the Ferrin-Sha. We were so proud and we bragged so much about getting assigned together to the primary carrier of the Shurrien-Sha."

He paused for a moment. "I'm sorry Jurin." Tyorin tried to console him but it was no use.

Jurin had hardened himself to the incident and would take no such pity. "We had no idea that ours was a death wish. But you have no reason to console me Tyorin, though I appreciate the sentiment."

He pulled his pencil back out of his drawer and took a deep breath before continuing, "Though I have not experienced it myself, I understand what you are going through at home. And if you wish to continue with your training and piloting career after hearing my story then your foundation is truly an unshakable one. And I can help you get into the Academy."

Tyorin's foundation sure had been shaken quite a bit, if not heavily rumbled. But he didn't lie to himself; it would take more than a good-story-gone-wrong to dissuade him. "How can you help me?"

Jurin smiled, "I'm glad that I haven't deterred you. If it were that easy it would've made me wonder why you didn't quit a long time ago." He pulled out a datapad from another drawer and started typing into it using the eraser of the pencil. "I won't be able to get you past any preliminary exams and such. And the medical exams you will have to pass yourself." He noticed Tyorin's raised eyebrow, "Nothing too spectacular," Jurin covered a fake sneeze, "Just your basic turn your head and cough stuff."

Tyorin shook his head as Jurin smiled. "But what I can do for you, is get you noticed. And believe me that much is huge. Especially for one who is so far from being a Soban as far as Kiith is concerned." Tyorin knew all-too-well what that meant; at least he thought he did. "The hardest thing about you getting into the Academy is that you are not a Soban." Jurin took another deep breath, preparing for the news he was about to give poor Tyorin.

"You will _have_ to become a Soban to go to the Academy."

Tyorin's brain took a few extra seconds to mull over that chunk of information. _Have to become a Soban?_ "Wait, you don't mean I will actually have to…" Tyorin started, but was unable to finish for himself.

Jurin finished for him, "That is correct; you will have to 'take the red'."

Elliay shot into his mind, "I can't just 'take the red'! Are you insane!" Tyorin leapt from his seat and slammed his hands down on Jurin's desk, raising his voice a few octaves.

"I'm sorry Tyorin, but unless you have the money to pay for it, you will have to join Kiith Soban to get into the academy." Jurin looked into Tyorin's frustrated eyes.

"Sajuuk… Damnit!" Tyorin screamed, throwing his backpack down, his helmet clattering away. "I was so _Damn_ close!" He fell back into his chair.

"I'm sorry Tyorin, I really am." He did not flinch during Tyorin's tirade, but continued calmly, "A lot of things have changed in Kiith Soban since landfall." He looked at Tyorin, trying to meet his eyes. "Families are now allowed, Sobanii children are accepted now as well. All Kiith were hurt by the burning. Soban was no exception; our numbers dwindled as much as any other Kiith. And we were forced to survive, however if you want to go to a Sobanii run training school you have to be of Kiith Soban if you don't want to pay. That much, hasn't changed"

He looked back to his datapad and began typing away with the eraser again, "Trust me Tyorin," he let out a soft chuckle, "You _do not_ want to pay." He chuckled a bit more.

Tyorin recovered himself, "Thanks for everything Jurin but I think I'm gonna have to pass on this one." Tyorin rubbed his face with his hands.

Jurin looked back to his young friend again, "Well, how about this. You can take out some of your frustration in the simulator here as soon as we're done here, the techs are just doing last minute checks. Then you can go home a little early if you like and discuss it with your family." Jurin thought to himself for a second, "Well, you can discuss it with your sister; I think that's who you were just thinking about right?"

_How the hell does he know me so well?_ "Thanks Jurin, I think I'll do that." Tyorin stood, going to retrieve his backpack and helmet.

He picked up his helmet and tried to clip it back to the strap on his backpack. He looked back to Jurin, "What do we have going on in the simulator today?" Trying to change the subject.

Jurin caught on quickly and smiled, "We have a completely new Blade to test out." He perked one eye out from the datapad to observe Tyorin's reaction.

Tyorin's stopped what he was doing mid-step and dropped his helmet, it clattered away again. "What do you mean a _new_ Blade?" He managed to turn his head enough to look into Jurin's eye.

"We finally got the design specs for the new model Blade fighter from the top Navy techs." He put his datapad down, "We've just finished putting it into rendered form. We have the controls built and everything is ready to go." He stood from his desk and walked around to come next to Tyorin. "And you are going to be the _very first one_ to pilot it." He smiled and patted a stunned Tyorin on the shoulder, "Congrats." He stepped past Tyorin and left the office.

Tyorin didn't move, instead he continued to stare at Jurin's empty seat behind the desk.

Jurin stepped from the office and started shooing techs and engineers from the simulator; they were only performing triple-checks anyways. After ridding the machinery of its parasites he moved to the control room.

Nestled in the corner across from the office was the control room. It was only slightly larger than the office but instead of the office, it was lined with computer consoles and monitors. All of the walls above the computer screens were windows that allowed a clear view of the entire outer room.

Numerous techs filled the all the room's available seats and so Jurin was forced to stand. "What is Tyorin doing in that office?" He wondered aloud as he changed from searching the room for Tyorin to the large window that allowed outsiders to view the insides of the office.

He saw Tyorin still standing there, _stupid kid…_ _freaks out when I tell him what he has to do to get into the Academy, then not twenty seconds later he's freaked out even more about piloting a new fighter._

Closing his thoughts off, Jurin reached between two techs and picked up a microphone from a small stand that was wired to the wall. Jurin clipped the small mic' to his collar and started speaking but noticed that the sound was not being played throughout the room. He poured over the mic' stand until he found the 'on' switch and pushed it with his thumb, the two techs on either side of him shook their heads.

Jurin ignored the techs and spoke into the mic, "Tyorin, if you would be so kind as to wake up and get out of that office." Jurin's voice boomed through the simulator room, echoing into the office and making Tyorin jump.

Tyorin looked around himself, obviously having forgotten where he was. He eventually turned his head to the window and saw Jurin standing in the control room, smiling. He pointed to Tyorin then to the simulator, motioning for him to get in.

_Me?_ Tyorin pointed back at himself and mouthed the word through the window, still stunned at what he had been told a few minutes before. He wasn't sure who Jurin was talking to.

Abandoning hand motions Jurin shook his head violently and reverted back to the microphone, "Yes _you_…" He spoke loudly.

Tyorin jumped again and put on a guilty face. _Fine! I'll go… _ Tyorin thought to himself as he pulled off his jacket and hung it over the chair he had been seated in. He walked from the office and stepped to the simulator, circled it once, then looked to the tech room, pleading with Jurin through the glass.

Jurin nodded to a tech seated to his left and a small hissing noise filled the room as the forward, top section of the sphere lifted upwards from a forward hinge. Tyorin made his way to the opening. Upon climbing up the hydraulic arms to the hatch, he caught his first glimpse inside the simulator. And in turn was the first to look at the prototype cockpit setup of the new Blade fighter.

_Sweet…_ passed through his mind as he put one leg in and followed with a hand, the single foothold in the sphere was the only place to step when trying to reach the flight seat.

Finally falling into the seat face-first, Tyorin righted himself and settled himself in the cockpit. There were two foot pedals to each foot; Tyorin instinctively set each of his feet on the inner pedal.

He looked to his left hand. Sitting back in the seat; a sleek, silver and black throttle handle was just in his reach. Small 'hat'-switches covered its surface just in reach of each of his fingers. Numerous other buttons covered every other part of the handle, each one glowed an eerie baby-blue through the transparent material of the buttons.

Tyorin looked to his right hand this time and a single, equally sleek flight stick was also just within his reach. Three 'hat'-switches controlled the top of which. In between the switches was a small, clear plastic cover which protected a large blue button covered with a small red crosshair. The word 'safe' was typed into the safety flap.

Tyorin slid his hand onto the throttle and rolled his fingers onto the control stick. The smooth metal cooled his hands and quickly matched temperature as he held them. The fluid curves of the throttle and control stick fit into his hands _perfectly_.

Tyorin wanted to continue admiring the craftsmanship of the controls but as soon as he touched the control staff, the hatch slid shut with a soft hiss and the blue glow of the buttons filled the cockpit. Lights began flickering on from behind the flight seat and washed forward along the control panels that followed each of Tyorin's arms. Dark blue filled the cockpit as the main screens booted, drowning Tyorin in a sea of stars.

_Uber Sweet_… Flew through Tyorin's mind as the stars winked at him from every possible direction. He moved the control stick a bit and his view swung to meet his orders. The stick was extremely sensitive and its own movements from the pad it hooked into flowed like water.

He pushed the throttle forward and felt it click once softly as it moved out of the neutral position into the forward thrust position. He pulled it back slowly again, feeling the click once more as it returned to the neutral position, then feeling the soft click yet again as it moved into a reverse thrust position.

"Oh, Sajuuk, I'm gonna lose it…" Tyorin moaned to himself under his breath, feeling as though he _was_ in the cockpit of a brand new Blade fighter.

"How does it feel?" Jurin's voice came in through the speakers, a slightly mechanical ring accented his voice.

"I think I'm gonna have to change my pants." Tyorin replied almost breathlessly, still running his hands over the controls, making more movements with the control stick and throttle.

Jurin laughed out into the microphone, "I thought you would say something like that." Tyorin could hear the muffle as Jurin placed his hand over the microphone. He could hear voices in the background before Jurin came back on, "Okay Tyorin, lets get started…"

_They may need to get started…_ Tyorin mused to himself.

"…I don't need to explain too many of the controls to you. You have obviously found the throttle and primary flight staff." Jurin droned on, "You can control most of the fighter's basic functions through the throttle and control staff; everything is there at your fingertips." More muffled voices. "All the controls regarding the hull cameras and engines, plus some extras we won't go over now, are installed into the throttle handle. Everything regarding targeting and weapons, including radar, is there on the flight staff."

"Yeah I found all that already." Tyorin nearly cut in, switching his corner camera view to various points and angles all around him. He also fidgeted slightly with his radar, zooming in on the surrounding space and bringing it into a three-dimensional view directly between his knees. _Whoa…_

"Alright, alright…" Jurin replied, "I guess you're way ahead of us. Okay then, we're loading the primary diagnostics and logic systems for the fighter. A 3-D model should come up shortly. Feel free to look over the information for a few minutes." Jurin motioned to a tech behind him to start the upload. At which the tech whirred around in his seat and began typing madly into the console in front of him.

Information and specs flooded the primary screen in front of Tyorin and he could barely keep up. A three dimensional view of the Blade finally did appear in front of Tyorin where the radar used to be.

The Cockpit was slightly off-centered in between two forward sweeping 'arms' which housed what seemed to Tyorin to be two identical, very large,_ fusion_ engines. He spoke up, "Hey Jurin, it says here that it's equipped with dual fusion engines…"

"Yes, and?" This was the second of two reasons Jurin wanted Tyorin to do the simulator test of the new fighter. The kid knew his stuff, technical and skill-wise. Skill-wise, of course, being the primary reason he wanted him in the cockpit.

"No more plasma?" Tyorin asked himself as he read on about the engines. _Holy Crap!_ "They do use plasma! There is a limited store in the engines but…" He read on, narrating his findings to himself. Jurin rolled his eyes; knowing all about it already.

"The large intakes on the underside of the fighter force small particles into the engines and the mass is combined with the plasma already stored there, creating more plasma!" Tyorin was throttled by the level of technology these new fighters would use. "The excess plasma is then forced out of the vents in tiny pressurized amounts." Tyorin stopped reading to put the pieces together for himself.

"Otherwise known as a Fusion Plasma Pulse Drive. A little bit different than your standard fusion drive." Jurin knew what Tyorin was thinking, "So no, there is no fuel consumption."

"By Kharak…" Tyorin kept reading, "This is insane…" His eyes crossed a familiar acronym as they quickly scanned the information. "A PDA!"

Jurin didn't wait for Tyorin to read more, he was beginning to grow bored by narrating information he already knew. "Yes, a small amount of the drive plasma is input into the smallest PDA system the Hiigaran Navy has developed. It gets just enough materials from the intakes and drive plasma to produce ammunition and small concussion missiles."

Tyorin read a few other interesting terms under the PDA category, "Plasma Lance Rounds? Concussion missiles?"

"Plasma Lance Rounds are the primary ammunition produced by the PDA for the fighter, which eliminates the danger of explosive ammunition stores." Jurin rolled his eyes and continued his dull speech into the microphone, "And Concussion missiles are a secondary weapon produced by the PDA only one at a time. They are small, fast and maneuverable, and they can add that extra little punch you may need in a dogfight."

"They pack more than enough force to take out any small fighters you may encounter. We are currently working on an advanced missile for punching through corvette armour or possibly even frigate armour but I wouldn't hold my breath." Jurin turned behind him again and patted the tech there on the back. The tech looked at him and Jurin waved his hand quickly in front of his throat, signaling for the tech to cut the information input.

"I guess I won't be holding my breath then…" Tyorin replied mindlessly as he continued scanning the words.

"Are you ready to start yet Tyorin?" Jurin sounded as if he was getting impatient. He was quite anxious to see what Tyorin could do with the flight controls of the Blade X-52.

"Yeah, yeah let's get started…" Tyorin pulled his eyes from the words as he finished up a note about small plasma maneuvering vents in the tips of the wings. _ I was wondering why a fighter would need wings in space… _"Guess you guys took a hint from the Taiidani Triikors." Tyorin mumbled to himself as he sat back in the flight seat and wrapped his fingers around the smooth metal of the throttle and flight stick.

"What was that Tyorin?" Jurin asked as he leaned over a tech and typed into the console, an annoyed look spread on the tech's face.

"Nothing, don't worry about it." Tyorin exhaled slowly, "How about getting this thing started?"

"I'm working on it Tyorin." Jurin however was already perfectly prepared to start the simulation.

"What's the holdup?" Tyorin called impatiently from the cockpit.

Jurin stood straight again. _Just getting you noticed…_ Jurin thought to himself as the simulation was engaged.

Tyorin looked to his front as the information readouts were replaced with a squadron of twelve Triikors flying toward him in a 'Claw' formation.

Tyorin looked at the incoming force and tightened his grip on the controls. He exhaled slowly before drawing in a deep breath, "Lets see what my Blade is made of."

Then he slammed the throttle forward.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 –

The smooth movements of the flight controls gave the fighter a 'glassy' feeling as Tyorin wrenched the flight stick back to the left. The Blade barrel-rolled to its left, the small plasma vents in the wings accelerating the spin by forcing more of the powerful fuel through tiny slits in the hull.

The Blade's spiral tightened and a single concussion missile launched from the center of the blue, blurring cylinder.

Tyorin pulled the throttle back swiftly into the reverse position, straightening the control staff at the same time. The fighter stopped mid-spin and came to a complete halt in space as the top and bottom portions of the main exhaust vents came back and covered the primary outlet to the rear. The gates halted all plasma flow from the end of the fighter and redirected it forward over the top and bottom of the fighter.

Four bright blue streams of plasma fire rocketed around the fighter, creating a dark, crystal-blue flower of flame in space.

The launched concussion missile slammed into the eleventh of twelve Triikors. The missile detonated and took the entire fighter with it, stopping its suicidal drive towards Tyorin instantly.

_Show-off…_ Jurin thought to himself as he looked at the playback in slow-motion. He admired the orange and red colors of the explosion mixing with the beautiful blue flower that was created by the reverse drive plasma of the Blade. The myriad of colors mixed and danced across the fighter's sleek hull. Not even an entire second passed between the time Tyorin fired the missile and the fire flower erupted.

Jurin leaned down to one of the techs in front of him, "Save that stunt somewhere, I'll get it from you later."

Jurin ignored the tech's murmured "Yes sir." And looked back to the large primary screen, seeing what Tyorin was seeing.

Immediately after witnessing the vivid red explosion before him, Tyorin pulled back on the control stick and glided the throttle forward again. The Blade shot upwards before the explosion fully dissipated. Its plasma trail drawing out a stem of fire leading back to the blue rose Tyorin had created when he reversed his thrust.

After firing off the missile, the PDA onboard automatically started construction of a new one. The construction was halted however, when Tyorin pulled the trigger for his plasma rail-gun. His firing the blue rounds into empty space created an image of water-drops falling from the end of the stem.

Tyorin gave a quick glance down to his knees to check his three-dimensional radar. The final Triikor was tailing him at a distance, and losing ground. _Yeah, good luck getting that piece of junk to keep up with this baby…_

Tyorin throttled down enough to let the Triikor close with him. He checked his velocity and then checked the pursuing fighters speed as well. _Lets see if the A.I. falls for one of the oldest tricks…_ The Triikor's speed suddenly jumped, indicating a push into the afterburner. _The A.I. is seriously falling for it…_ Tyorin's sly smile only widened as he tightened his grip over the throttle, watching the Triikor's velocities climb, getting ever closer by the second.

Jurin noticed Tyorin's sudden decrease of speed as well and assumed something was wrong with the system. He started yelling at techs to do an emergency systems check when Tyorin's voice came up over the intercom.

"Jurin…" He stated calmly, waited for a response. The Triikor nearly on the Blade.

"Yes?" Jurin replied, now confused by Tyorin's calm demeanor.

The Triikor came right into firing range as it reached its peek speed.

"Your A.I. _Sucks!_"Tyorin screamed into the comm as he pulled the throttle all the way backwards and twisted the control stick to the right as he pulled it to the left.

The nickel slugs from the rushing Triikor zoomed through empty space just inches from the Blade's hull as Tyorin performed a reverse, rolling barrel-roll _backwards_. Twisting his fighter in a tight spiral _around_ the stream of fire as he flew backwards in space.

The Triikor's speed stayed constant as Tyorin's fighter rushed towards it in a tight spiral, taunting as it leisurely rolled around the stream of deadly metal.

Tyorin's spin brought him up above the enemy Triikor just-in-time. He passed above the fighter, cockpit-to-cockpit, giving the digitally rendered pilotthe finger as he continued flying backwards.

He rushed the throttle forward again and straightened his roll before tightening his index finger over the primary trigger on the flight staff. A thick, steady stream of dart-shaped plasma bolts whirred from the front of the Blade. The shots poured into the rear of the Triikor; piercing straight into the thin armour, puncturing vital plasma lines and igniting ammo stores.

The Triikor never had time to stop firing. And just before it exploded, fire could be seen issuing from both of the weapon muzzles on the fighter. The ammunition had already been lit by Tyorin's attack when the Triikor tried to fire it. The Triikor ignited completely, and Tyorin pushed the throttle to full afterburner. He rushed his Blade through the cloud of fire, bursting from the opposite end in another spiral.

The only remnant of the Triikor was a powdery-white haze that floated in space for a few seconds before the effects of the explosion dissipated completely.

Tyorin let out several loud 'whoops' as he pulled loop after loop and roll after roll. He couldn't feel the real effects of his maneuvers, the G's and inertia, but he didn't care. He had finally defeated twelve Triikors on his own. No backup, no handicap, Nothing.

_And I did it without their Qwaar-damned approval! _He thought to himself, knowing full-well who 'their' referred to.

He pulled one last hi-speed rolling loop before the screens started to fade from around him. Each star giving a farewell wink before disappearing back into the recesses of some computer's memory.

"Aww… We done already?" Tyorin whimpered as the last of the lights faded from his view.

Jurin was back in the control room, seated at the console he had been invading before the simulation. This time however, the annoyed tech had simply relinquished his seat and Jurin's hands passed deftly over the input console. He glanced back and forth between his hands and the screen as he replied to Tyorin's complaint. "Sorry buddy but we have plenty of data for now."

He passed a few more keystrokes before smiling broadly and standing from the console. The tech quickly reclaimed his seat. "Plus Tyorin, you put that simulator through one hell of a first flight. We need to make sure it took your beating without too many scars."

Jurin reached above his head and pulled a small disk out of the socket it popped out of seconds earlier. He placed it in an equally small sleeve and stepped from the control room. He put his hand over the microphone once more and told a tech to open the hatch just as he stepped through the doorway.

The lights from the consoles around him faded back to black in the same wave pattern as they had lit up. The front hatch of the simulator opened and Tyorin saw Jurin's smiling face haze into view as bright, white light poured into the sphere. Tyorin's pupils shrank considerably as he took Jurin's extended hand for help out of the sphere.

Back on their feet, Jurin looked at Tyorin as they began to walk back to the office. He smiled and opened the door for Tyorin, allowing him to enter first.

Tyorin took his same seat again and Jurin dropped himself back into the chair behind the desk. He looked up to Tyorin, who was fidgeting in his seat. Obviously still quite excited about what he had just done.

"Well Tyorin, let me be the first to offer you congratulations on being the first one to officially double my record." He beamed at Tyorin, who returned it heartily. "And unofficially triple the same record." His smile grew brighter. Though Tyorin's smile stayed the way it was. Now that he understood what it meant he wasn't going to risk any action that could be considered 'rubbing it in'.

"So," Jurin started. "How did you like it?"

"Really need to change my pants..." Tyorin joked, "It was incredible. And really easy, almost felt like I was cheating somehow. And the controls... I mean, wow... Are the new Blade controls going to be the same as those?"

"That simulator is designed to perfectly mimic the cockpit of the new Blades. The controls are identical." Jurin paused for a second, "As for you thinking you were somehow cheating," He thought for a moment, "That's just your mind playing tricks on you. That software perfectly imitates the new Blade's handling and performance. Plus the A.I. that you said sucked so much was actually an improved version over the last set we gave you for your simulator back home."

Tyorin let out a low whistle. "So how long is it going to take for your people to check over the simulator?" Tyorin's eyes filled with hope as his mind whirred at the thought of getting back in the simulator.

Jurin let out a slow sigh, "Unfortunately, that process is going to take a while. Three days at least." Jurin quickly followed up with the reason, seeing Tyorin's expression fall like a brick thrown in the ocean. "We basically need to disassemble the whole thing and check all the parts. That thing has over ten thousand moving parts. That's how the movement is so smooth. That simulator has taken us years to develop."

Jurin leaned back in his chair and shifted his gaze out the window at the great-white sphere now being assaulted once more by techs and engineers. "Lucky for us we finished it just in time for the new Blade specs to be applied." He looked to Tyorin, who had also shifted his gaze to the simulator. "Lucky for you as well I guess." He chuckled softly.

Sitting forward in his seat again he produced a small disk from his pocket, along with a small piece of paper. Tyorin noticed him pull out the objects and reverted his attention back to the office desk.

Jurin held up each object in a separate hand and leaned his elbows on the desk. "This Tyorin," He started, his face turning serious and shaking the disk slowly, "Is a recording of what you just did in that simulator. All different angles have been recorded so feel free to pause and change views." He placed the disk on the desk. "And I do suggest you watch it. That new Blade may be an incredible piece of machinery but I don't think even you yourself realize how absolutely amazing your piloting skills are."

Tyorin was a bit surprised by the blunt flattery from his friend but bit his tongue back on any thanks as Jurin started shaking the piece of paper just as slowly. His expression remaining dead-serious, "This is all of my contact information." He saw Tyorin's expression fall again, signaling that he knew why Jurin was giving this to him. "If you reach a decision before we see each other again. My number is here, along with my home address."

Jurin wrapped the paper around the disk and handed it to Tyorin. He hesitated only momentarily before taking it, as if the paper would bite him. He wasn't sure what to say so he stayed quiet as he took the small piece of paper with the disk neatly folded inside.

"Tyorin," Jurin's voice pulled Tyorin's eyes from the foreboding piece of paper in his hand back up to his face, "A copy of that video has already been sent to the commanding officer of the Sobanii Academy." He continued after Tyorin's expression turned to shock, "I also gave him adequate instruction on what to do if he wants to contact you personally."

Jurin leaned back in his chair, "He may only have one out of four possible stars," He looked back to the simulator briefly, "but that one star still makes him an admiral." He looked back to Tyorin, their eyes met, "Rear Admiral Rohen. If he does contact you himself I want you to show him your utmost level of respect." Jurin looked back to the simulator. "He has seen a lot and he deserves it. He is also an old friend of mine, so remember Tyorin, respect."

A few moments passed before Jurin stood and stretched. "Well, that's enough of that kind of talk for one afternoon." He asked, trying to break the awkward silence that fell over the room. He looked back at Tyorin, who had moved his eyes back to the paper-wrapped disk. "Don't you think?"

Tyorin was shaken, significantly. He knew what Jurin wanted. And he knew what he wanted to do, but something inside of him kept him from doing it outright. There were a few things he would have to do before he could make a decision.

"Yeah, I guess so." Tyorin said quietly as he stood.

"Tyorin," Jurin started, walking up to stand in front of Tyorin. "You've been through a lot lately, and you have a very rough road ahead of you… No matter which path you choose." He put a hand to Tyorin's shoulder, "And the decision of which path to follow is probably going to be one of the hardest, if not _the _hardest decision of your life." His grip tightened on Tyorin's shoulder. "I want you to think about it long and hard. Don't go home and get into a giant fight with your parents and decide right then and there. That would be a very bad way to make up your mind and you'd most likely regret it later."

He stepped past Tyorin and opened the door, he stopped in the doorway, "Tyorin, I don't want you to come back here until you make your decision." He sighed heavily, still in the doorway. "You can't mull over this forever, you need to make a decision. And when you do decide, Soban or not, I want you to let me know. Oh, and don't worry; you'll still be getting paid." He started to close the door as he stepped out.

'Thanks Jurin… for everything." Tyorin let out quickly, trying to get it out before Jurin closed the door.

Jurin held the door for a moment and smiled. "No problem, consider it a paid vacation." He waved his goodbye at Tyorin as the last foot of the door was pulled closed.

_At least he's funny._ Tyorin let out a small chuckle and slipped his leather jacket on. He picked up his backpack and pulled it over his shoulders as he searched the room for his helmet. Seeing it leaning against the wall a few feet away, he retrieved it and stepped from the office. Feeling the disk in his pocket as he took the few steps from the office door to the Alpha six door.

Jurin watched him leave quietly. _ He's a strong one. Whatever decision he makes, if he makes it for the right reasons… It will be the right one._ Jurin smiled wide as he turned back to an engineer starting to take apart one of the large hydraulic arms holding up the sphere.

Tyorin hypnotically walked from the simulator room to the elevator, through the lobby, and out to his hoverbike. Waking up only after mounting his bike and frustrating himself trying to figure out why it wouldn't start.

After mentally slapping himself, he dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out the security key. He slid the small device into its respective slot and felt the hover coils uncover themselves and start humming gently.

Just before taking off he glanced down to see the disk lying on the ground, still tightly wrapped in the paper. _Must have fallen out when I got my key…_ He picked it up and held it in front of his face-shield, staring at it. _This is gonna be rough…_ He thought to himself as he kicked off on his bike, zipping out of the parking lot and down the road.

Along the ride home he debated with himself. _I want to go so bad but what about Elliay?_ Tyorin was confronted by the image of a crying Elliay cinching herself to his waist one, not-so-distant night when she thought he was leaving. _Sajuuk… if not any other time in my life… help me now… _

'But abandoning your Kiith?' A small logical voice sprang up from the back of his mind.

_Is it really abandonment if they push me out? _ He reasoned with the voice.

'They are still your family…' The logic retorted.

Tyorin couldn't come up with a reply to that thought and tried to concentrate on the ride home. He failed miserably and continued to battle with himself the rest of the way.

Still falling short on an answer to the logic's last statement…

He pulled off the main road back into his driveway. He looked ahead to the garage to see an open driveway. _Good, they're not back yet..._ Tyorin thought to himself as he again pressed the button on the underside of his helmet to open the garage door.

The door slid up and opened the way for tyorin to take his bike back to the stand he got it from. He dismounted and pulled his helmet off, hanging it on the rack he retrieved it from earlier that day.

Tyorin walked to the door and pushed the small blinking-green button on the wall as he stepped through, the large sliding door shutting the sunlight out of the garage.

The house was quiet. "Where's Elliay?" Tyorin asked himself in a whisper, looking left, right, and leaning around the wall to look into the living room. _She might want to watch this video too, but how can she watch it if I can't find her?_

He heard a muffled laugh from further down the hallway. Tyorin turned and stepped in the direction of the sounds, stopping in front of Elliay's room. He turned towards the door and heard another voice... a distinctly more _male_ voice.

_Oh, Hell No!_ Tyorin thought as he ripped Elliay's door open and was greeted with the sight of Elliay laying on her bed with an obviously good friend of her's sitting on her abdomen, playing with her long hair.

They both froze at Tyorin's intrusion. Neither said anything as Tyorin stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. The room was controlled by a dark blue color. The bedding was a dark blue, the wallpaper was blue. The carpet was brown like the rest of the house but Elliay had used as many rugs as she could find that were blue and covered as much floor-space as she could.

_And by Sajuuk if i don't get an explanation soon they'll all be red! _A few more moments went by and the only noise was the rustling sheets and blankets as the two righted themselves and sat next to each other on the bed.

_I'll help them out a little..._

"So..." Tyorin pulled the desk chair out from under the desk to his right and spun it around, straddling the chair as he sat down. He laid his arms across the top and his jacket sleeves were pulled back, tightening around his flexing arms. "What's your name?" he asked in his best naïve voice.

Elliay had looked down to her feet after they sat up, then looked up to Tyorin when he spoke. The boy, however, never took his eyes off Tyorin. "His name is..." Elliay began before the boy cut her off.

"Koleel." Elliay dropped her head again and Koleel looked straight into Tyorin's eyes. "My name is Koleel Soban, and you must be Tyorin. I've heard some interesting things about you."

Tyorin's eyes widened and his head shot up, _Soban?_ _Interesting things?_

Koleel stood, ridding himself of any childish air left from the behavior he exhibited a few moments ago. He had a serious aura about him that Tyorin could almost see. "What are you doing here?" Tyorin asked bluntly, having taken his arms from the chair and sat up straight.

He looked back to Tyorin after crossing the room to stand in front of the window, "I arrived about forty minutes ago and when your beautiful sister said you weren't here, she invited me inside and told me to make myself at home until you showed up." He continued almost nonchalantly, "I came here to speak with you on behalf of Rear Admiral Rohen."

Tyorin's brows shot up, "That was fast." His statement more of a question, prodding for more information. Tyorin stood from the chair and slid it back under the desk. Elliay remained on her bed, though thoroughly confused, she stayed silent.

"I'm guessing you would like me to explain a little more." Koleel turned his head back to the window.

"Please do..." Tyorin crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the door. His attempts to project a cool air were being soundly defeated by his inner self demanding to know what exactly was going on.

Koleel turned from the window and faced back into the room. He put one hand in his pocket and pulled out a small disk identical to Tyorin's, he held it at eye height as he started. "I am currently attending the Soban Pilot Academy. I am the top student there, and being able to defeat your instructors can entitle you to... privileges. And so being _entitled_ as I am, I was called to the admiral's office shortly after he watched your simulation. And I'm pretty sure you have a copy of that simulation as well don't you?"

After seeing Tyorin's nod, Koleel put the disk back into his pocket and kept his hand there as he continued, "The Admiral instructed me that I was to come here and tell you that there has been a place in the Academy's advanced classes reserved for you should you wish to commit."

Elliay's head shot up, this having been her first time hearing the news. She looked to Tyorin for her own explanation.

Koleel saw her movement and answered for Tyorin, "Your brother's exceptional skills have been noticed. And they have been noticed by people who can do something about it." Elliay had looked to Koleel when he began but slowly moved her gaze back to Tyorin as Koleel spoke. Koleel looked back to Tyorin as he finished his last statement, "Tyorin has some important decisions to make."

Tyorin looked to his feet but he could feel both of their eyes boring into him. His mind was whirring. _Is this really happening? A place has been reserved? Who is this guy anyways? And how the hell did he get Elliay into her room in under forty minutes?_

Elliay broke the silence, "Can I watch the simulation?" she asked meekly, her voice barely loud enough to reach the other occupants of the room.

Tyorin finally looked up to her but Koleel spoke for him, "I think you should both watch it."

Tyorin nodded in defeat and took his weight off of the door. He opened it again as Elliay stood from the bed and made her way through the doorway. She was followed from the room by Koleel and Tyorin closed the door after himself.

The three continued to the living room where Elliay took a side of the smaller seat and Koleel sat nestled next to her. Tyorin didn't notice the seating arrangement as he turned the holovid on and inserted the disk. He turned from the holovid set and saw the two sitting next to each other on the rather small couch.

"No." Tyorin said dully. Walking over he grabbed Koleel's arm and pulled him from the seat then forced him down on the opposite side of the large couch. Elliay shot Tyorin a dirty look as he sat down on the opposite side of the large couch. Placing Koleel and Elliay at technically opposite ends of the room with Tyorin in the middle.

Tyorin ignored Elliay's look and took the control from the small glass lamp-stand that connected the two couches and started the video player. He placed the remote back on the small glass table and never took his eyes from the holovid as the system booted up. "Have you seen this yet Koleel?" Tyorin asked with the least amount of emotion as possible.

"No I have not." His rigid tone-of-voice carried through full-well to Tyorin, showing his sour attitude towards the modified seating arrangement.

Tyorin smiled slightly before the video finally booted up and the lights in the room dimmed automatically.

Large block letters controlled the screen, they read 'BLADE MODEL X-52 FIRST VIRTUAL RUN'.

"So you got to be the first one to pilot the new Blade?" Koleel asked, "How was it?" his eyes stayed glued to the screen as a dark cockpit came into view. Tyorin could be seen sitting in the flight seat with his hands gripping the flight staff and throttle. The Tyorin in the video was impatiently sitting in the seat, waiting for Jurin to load the final program.

Tyorin recalled all the things he had read in the simulator earlier and it still got him excited. Finally they saw a dozen Triikors fly into view in a 'Claw' formation.

"Incredible..." Tyorin breathlessly replied to Koleel's question.

They heard the video Tyorin's yell and the view suddenly changed to an external view as the dark blue fighter roared towards the incoming fighters. Elliay looked to her left to see Tyorin put the remote back on the table once more. He looked to her and nodded, showing that he had switched the view.

She wasn't surprised, nor did she mind. After all, he had seen the cockpit view before. She smiled to herself and turned her head back to the video.

Tyorin's fighter rushed straight into the middle of the 'Claw' at full-burn. Flying inside of their firing arcs and taking out the center fighter on his first pass. After he passed, he wheeled around and zipped above the rearranging formation.

He came down on the fighters hard, strafing the formation vertically. Four orange and yellow fireballs bellowed after his pass. The fighters broke formation and scrambled after him individually, firing a mad cloud of metal after his Blade.

With seven Triikors on his tail, Tyorin's fighter could be seen pushing more power into his engines. The ion trails grew and he sped further away from the angry group of Triikors.

The pursuing fighters had abandoned all attempts at staying in formation and simply concentrated on getting a hit on Tyorin. They zipped this way and that in between one another as they followed the quick blue fighter, losing ground the whole time.

Tyorin finally swung his fighter around and faced the oncoming wave. The Triikors started firing, and began missing. Tyorin rolled to his upper left and fired off a few rounds, ripping into the forward section of an oncoming fighter.

Tyorin banked right and several slugs passed harmlessly to his side. He dropped a few meters and more slugs passed just as harmlessly above his head. He rolled right this time and fired a few more rounds into the cockpit of another oncoming fighter. The plasma darts ripped open the cockpit of the fighter and its engine continued pushing it mindlessly along its course.

Tyorin came close to the remaining five fighters and launched a small missile from near point blank range. The missile launched and it seemed more like the Triikor hit the missile than the other way around.

In truth the missile hadn't even ignited its own drive yet.

Tyorin sipped to his left again and took off on a tangent. Leaving the remaining four fighters far behind and to the left of his still undamaged Blade.

A few seconds later there was another pass and only two Triikors were left to navigate away from the debris of their comrades.

Ten seconds later another pass showed the second-to-last Triikor completely destroyed in a dazzling display of skill and artistic flair on Tyorin's part.

Tyorin pulled a complete vertical climb from where he had stopped in front of the red explosion. The remaining Triikor pursued for a few moments before Tyorin rolled around its opposing fire backwards. And after ending up behind it, he unloaded his plasma rail gun into the rear of the Triikor.

Tyorin's blue Blade shot through the shining fireball in a roll and pulled several more loops and rolls before the holovid screen faded completely.

Tyorin's mouth wasn't hanging open as Elliay's was. But he was just as railed to see just how quickly he had dispatched the enemy squadron.

Koleel had stood and walked over to the holovid. He ejected Tyorin's disk and inserted the disk he had shown earlier. He stood straight and turned to face Tyorin once more, "Two minutes, forty-seven seconds." he brought his right hand up to the chrono strapped to his left wrist and pushed a small button on its side, a quiet beep followed.

"I am going to be honest with you Tyorin." Koleel let his rigid stature slump a little as he showed a softer side to Elliay and Tyorin. "That was one of the best..." he paused, "I take that back, that probably was _the_ best fighter handling I have ever seen. And the reason your skills are needed are to prevent disasters like the one I am about to show you." he started to walk back to his assigned seat on the couch when Tyorin spoke up.

"Skills?" Tyorin was doubtful, "You should have seen what happened to me back with the old blade. It was horrible."

Tyorin gathered his next thought quickly, "It isn't all _my skill_ like everyone thinks it is. It would take me a good three or four minutes to take out nine fighters..." Tyorin inhaled, "Then they would shoot me down. It isn't me, that new Blade is incredible."

Koleel stopped mid-step, "Tyorin, don't be a dumbass, I've been told about what you did in your simulator back in your room." he turned to Tyorin and shook his head, "Technology can only take you so far. The reason you always got beaten in the old Blade is because you had reached the end of its performance envelope. But you continued to push its limits and you continued to stack the challenges against yourself."

Koleel looked to Elliay, who nodded in response. "You faced near impossible odds in an obsolete fighter! Stop being so damn modest, it will only hurt you in the long run. How can you complain about taking nine Triikors down with an old Blade design when you still had two on your tail?" Koleel shook his head again as he started his steps again to the couch, "For Sajuuk's-sake, take some damn credit and pride in what you've done."

Tyorin was about to argue back but conceded his defeat and stayed quiet in his seat.

"Good." Koleel finished as he finally took his seat on the couch, "Now remember what I said; your skills are needed to prevent the catastrophe you're about to see." A few more moments of silence passed by.

"Tyorin, start the damn video." Koleel said from his side of the large couch.

Tyorin was startled from the thoughts he was still swimming in. Koleel's voice woke him and insisted that he put the thoughts away for later attention. He reached to the table and picked up the control once again, pushing the play button before placing it back down.

The lights dimmed again and the holovid booted up the playback program once more. An older man appeared on the screen before them, his hair was grayed but well kept. His brow had a wrinkle for every decade of the man's life. He wore a pristine military uniform and a single silver star pinned to his collar reflected the bright lights from all around him.

The man's cold gaze gave Tyorin a feeling that carried the chill through his spine. Even though the video he was watching was only a recording; Tyorin couldn't help but think that the man was looking straight through his flesh, right into his soul.

Tyorin felt the shiver once more as the image began speaking, "Tyorin Sulliur. You are watching this because I wanted you to see what you are able to prevent. Things like the one you are about to see happen all too often in Hiigaran space." his voice came from somewhere deep in his throat and carried a rumble with it that filled the room. Tyorin had to remind himself once more that it was just a pre-recorded video.

"You and your skills can save Hiigaran life, and hopefully you will be able to show others to do the same." The head nodded and the screen changed to a carrier view of an intense fire-fight. Hiigara was seen glimmering in the background as the battle raged. The video being shown was no better than 'home-made' quality, the picture was shaky and static traced the edges.

Wreckage circled the battlefield. Saarkin-Cho Carriers, Qwaar-Jet Heavy Cruisers, and Hiigaran variants of the same classes could be seen floating lifelessly as a haunting backdrop. A new Hiigaran Battlecruiser singlehandedly faced off with three remaining Taiidan Heavy Cruisers in the middle of the field.

Ion cannons scoured armour into mist and molten gel which was ripped and thrown from the hulls of ships. Pulsar lasers pierced delicate areas and large mass-drivers pounded craters into everything that remained.

One of the Battlecruiser's large Ion Cannons pierced through the thick armour and lanced through the reactor of an enemy Cruiser. The resulting explosion crippled one of its fellow Cruisers which sat too close.

The drives of that second Cruiser soon detonated after a massed bomber strike. The shockwaves of the exploding ship carried forward and shook the Carrier holding the recorder.

The static cleared quickly to show the Battlecruiser turning its full compliment on the remaining Heavy Cruiser. The Heavy Guns of the Qwaar-Jet fired a desperate defensive, though to no avail. The thick armour of the new Hiigaran Battlecruiser would not fail. The two large Ion Cannons of the Battlecruiser swept the length of the Heavy Cruiser and large Mass-Drivers rained explosive fire into the slits opened by the Ions.

Multiple explosions racked the inner structure of the Heavy Cruiser. The slits opened by the Ions were torn open further by the large slugs and the damage spread quickly. Structural integrity failed and struts were seen being ripped from the innards of the Cruiser by sheer hull stress.

Bodies could be seen floating from the open holes, though the firing did not stop. Bodies were ripped apart by crossfire as the heavy rounds continued pounding the sides of the Qwaar-Jet Cruiser. Ions continued cutting into the internal structure until one last round of explosions were seen sweeping the inside, pushing through the hull in weakened places. The final round of explosions leaving nothing more than an empty husk.

The right-most Mass-Driver of the Battlecruiser fired one last time at the defeated Cruiser, accomplishing nothing more than shattering more armour and spreading more corpses.

A partial wing of twenty Triikors flew from around the defeated Cruiser in a 'Switch Delta' formation. The fighters raked the bottom of the Battlecruiser as they passed. Four fighters fell to the shining blue beams of light from the Battlecruiser's defensive pulsar turrets. The remaining fighters scrambled their formation and proceeded out of the Battlecruiser's weapon's range.

The reassembled formation moved onward towards the Carrier taking the recording. The video feed scrambled slightly as the massive floating city powered its engines and turned toward the onrushing fighters.

The video pivoted and showed the forward section of the Carrier launch almost a squadron of fighters. The Blades rushed into a 'Claw' formation and started flying at the Triikors.

The Triikors scrambled their formation once more and came forward wildly, making it difficult for the Blades to track their movement as a unit. And so the Blades broke their formation as well; facing the Triikors on a fighter-to-fighter basis.

The first shots were exchanged and three Triikors were down, the two groups mixed and the dogfight began.

It took Tyorin a few moments to notice it, but he could tell that there was one Blade out there that flew a little more gracefully than the other nine. By this time however, the Triikor pilots had taken notice as well. Though it took them five fighters to find the problem.

And so the Triikors began fighting for that one Blade. With the odds now seriously stacked against them, the Triikor pilots did their best to take down their biggest threat.

What happened next stunned Tyorin into silence. The Triikors dived again and again at the Blade with suicidal addiction. And all the Blades, save the one, stopped hunting and concentrated on defending the one. Tyorin witnessed spectacular save after spectacular save. Each being very effective at stopping the shots meant for the one Blade.

Each was also equally suicidal. Each time a block was made, a Blade fighter would tumble away in ruin. The one Blade would respond in an equally deadly manner by dropping Triikor after Triikor.

The rules of attrition were defeated by the Triikors as the number of blades dwindled and was finally reduced to one after the last friendly was erased by blocking three different shots. The drive explosion was brilliant, and Tyorin knew what was about to happen.

The odds were bad for the Blade at one against six

The drive plasma of the Blade flared into life and the fighter rushed forward with an almost palpable bloodthirsty rage. "Jurin..." Tyorin didn't mean to let the sorrowful thought from his head. Elliay and Koleel both glanced to Tyorin.

Tyorin's eyes were straight into the holovid, he swam in the image it showed. His eyes jutted from right to left, up and down. Following the rapid movements of the Blade as it completely dismantled the Triikors bolt-for-bolt.

The initial rush passed and two Triikors were burning heaps. A second pass and two more shared the same fate. A third pass saw one more fighter gone.

The final Triikor spun on its axis and throttled forward as hard as it could, desperate to get away from the Blade. Unfortunately, its heavily damaged condition severely impeded its ability to get anywhere fast.

Jurin's fighter passed the Triikor and wheeled around to face back at his last opponent. The Triikor was helpless as both of the quad-barrels of the Blade lit up. Both of the fighters were still in space when the Blade started firing.

The rounds ripped into the front of the Triikor, shredding the cockpit and, undoubtedly, the pilot. But the Blade never stopped firing. The rounds continued to pummel the Triikor. Even after the Triikor had exploded, the Blade went back to the wreckage of the other Triikors and unloaded into each of them until they had detonated completely.

By the time Jurin had finished and his quad-barrels had overheated themselves to the point of internal meltdown, there wasn't enough of any of the Triikors left to retrieve even for recycling.

The video faded back to the image of the older man who let out a heavy sign before starting, "Tyorin, you could've stopped any one of those tragedies. You could've run a missile into the bridge of one of those Heavy Cruisers and traded a dozen or so lives for the few hundred that were lost instead. But I'm pretty sure you know what you were meant to be shown here." He paused, perhaps to let Tyorin catch up.

He needn't have given the time. "Twenty-six good pilots were lost that day. Nine excellent Blade pilots, the pour souls in the Triikors that would've survived, and you know the last casualty. Your good friend Jurin hasn't touched a flight stick since."

The man paused for a moment, seeming to gather his thoughts before his shoulders heaved visibly. "That incident traumatized Jurin for a good long time. He was a good friend of mine, and as you have seen; he was a damn-good pilot." The man brought his shoulders back up and squared them from their slump, "I would have played the audio that Jurin saved from inside his Blade during the battle, but he kept that to himself. And I'm not sure how you would've taken that anyway. I've heard it and it made me question quite a few of the decisions that I've made in my life."

"I hope you make your decision soon. And make it wisely. When you do, tell Jurin. No matter what choice you make." The man nodded to the recorder one last time and it faded to black as the room lights came back on.

Koleel stood from his seat and moved to retrieve the disk out of the player. He spoke on his way to the holovid, "That was Read Admiral Rohen if you couldn't tell. He looks a bit ghastly but he's not that bad." Koleel smiled lightly as he took the disk from the player and tossed it to a quiet Tyorin.

Elliay brought her legs up and sat on her thighs on the couch, pivoting to face Tyorin. "Tyorin," she spoke in a quiet, soft voice. "I'm not sure what _I _just saw, but I know that you know what you just saw. And I want you to know..." she held her tongue for a second as Tyorin lifted his head and looked to her. "I just want you to know that whatever choice you make, you know, whether to go or not..." she stopped herself again as Tyorin's head dropped again. "That whatever choice you make, I won't blame you, I understand."

Koleel had walked back over and sat down behind Elliay, placing one hand on her shoulder. She shot him a look over her shoulder, _Don't make this any more dramatic than it already is..._

Koleel smiled and took the hint. Taking his hand off her shoulder, he looked past her to Tyorin. Who still hadn't responded to Elliay's statement yet.

"Elliay, I know you won't blame me, it's just..." He stood rather abruptly. "I don't know if _I _wouldn't blame me..." He turned and walked around the couch towards the kitchen.

Reaching the kitchen he pulled out a glass and filled it with cold water. He turned around and leaned his back against the white counter. Koleel stood and Elliay lay over the back of the couch. Tyorin looked at them both before looking into his glass. He swirled the contents and stared into the depths of the glass.

He saw himself in the water, he saw himself twisting, writhing, and drowning in the clear fluid. That sight shook him a little and he stopped swirling the glass and instead drank deeply from the cup.

Finishing the drink he turned around again and placed the glass in the sink before him. He quickly looked out the window before spinning around on his heel.

His quick movement startled both Elliay and Koleel, _What is it?_ Both of their expressions read.

"They're back." He said bluntly before dashing back to the couch and snapping up the remote for the holovid. He turned it off and grabbed both video-disks, sticking them in his pocket as Elliay grabbed a very confused looking Koleel.

She drug him back to her room and Tyorin followed, closing the door behind him. Elliay let Koleel go as they made it into the room and headed for her window. Heaving it up and open she moved back and grabbed Koleel again, forcing him to the window.

He caught on and threw one leg out of the opening, then the other. Finally letting himself slide outside. He turned back to the window to see Tyorin and Elliay sharing the hole.

"Well Tyorin," He allowed himself a deep breath, having gotten out of the house unscathed. "I hope to see you at the Academy." He nodded to Elliay before he turned around and started walking away.

He got a few steps before Elliay grabbed Tyorin's arm. He looked down to her and saw a sad look in her eyes. "What?" he asked with a soft smile.

"Everyone knows what you have to do Tyorin. I watched that video too. I know what you can do." She gave him a great smile.

"Thank you, Elliay..." He gave her a great smile in return before turning his attention back to the window. "Hey Koleel!" He called from his place.

Koleel spun and looked back to them, "Wha-at?" He said in a sarcastic tone, letting his humor come through.

"You better start worrying!" Tyorin said through a grin.

Koleel tilted his head sideways like a confused animal, "About what?"

"Your title as best pilot, what else? If you wanna keep all your _entitlements_..." Tyorin smiled as he moved to close the window.

"Oh, yeah... I'm really scared!" Koleel called mockingly to the closing window.

Elliay and Tyorin heard his response just before the window shut.

Elliay looked to Tyorin after they turned from the window, "Why didn't you just go with him?" She asked somberly.

Tyorin looked at her for a second before replying, "Well, I did think about just jumping out of the window. But I figured it couldn't hurt to try Mom and Dad one more time." He smiled as the two of them stepped from the window to Elliay's bedroom door.

Tyorin grabbed the door handle before turning his head to look at Elliay.

Their eyes met and both stated to the other at the same time, "He doesn't count."


End file.
